I went to my friend's house. It was a Saturday and I knew he would be at home.
A crowd had gathered there, I was a little worried and I promptly made my way to inquire what this mild commotion was all about. I met him. He seemed to be in a flurry, talking to people, organizing things, giving directions.
'Yes Sir' one compliant person said. Inside people were on their mobiles, speaking animatedly, some were on the land lines. Some were talking on the top of their voices. My friend is an activist, as he describes himself, and I could see for myself that activity was humming in the air.
'Anything wrong?' I inquired politely.
'Why should anything be wrong, everything is right' he countered.
'No no, all these people...' I said lamely.
'Well I am going to organize a small procession'.
'For what?' I asked.
'In protest' he said tersely.
'Haven't you heard? of the latest imposition of purchasing LPG cylinders'.
'Yes, no ...' I mumbled.
'The problem, my dear people that you the public are not rights conscious'.
'Yes' I replied 'I always am in the middle'.
'Stop this useless prattle. Now' he lowered his voice' the government has lowered the allocation of gas cylinders for six months only. How will people eat, moreover the open market will thrive in black marketees. Is this proper consumerism'.
'What is your agenda?' I asked.
'All the opposition parties are protesting, so I decided to rally my members and stage a protest march'.
'And what would you do?'.
'Why carry these cylinders on our heads as a symbolic gesture'. I looked inside.
There was a row of six cylinders. lined up in a neat array of display.