The Elephant
in the Room
The room is dark and cold. The only break in the sedate shade of concrete comes from the glint of iron stakes and chains. For its inhabitants, freedom means hauling tourists up a historic fort. Chapatis and sugarcane, duly rationed, sates their hunger.
Miraculously, bonds manage to bloom even in this bondage.
Ironically, the metaphor describes our discomfort.
