Monday, October 29, 2001
The war is increasingly looking like a bully fight gone horribly wrong -- for the bully, that is.
In the red corner is a rich, overgrown, domineering bully. In the blue corner is a sneaky, spunky little bundle of terror. Gathered around the ring are a bunch of spectators, all of them reluctantly cheering the red corner. Before the slugfest, the bully had warned, you are either with me -- or with him, in which case I will break your teeth.
So the bout begins. The bully rains a series of blows on Mr Terror; he ducks, weaves, takes a few, stumbles, falls. But is back on his feet just before the count is out. The bully's blows are beginning to get predictable. For every blow he lands, there are many he misses, some of them landing on the hapless spectators.
The spectators are beginning to get restive, they had expected a quick kill. It was turning out to be a hard-fought battle. The bully is tiring, the applause is turning towards the underdog. Realisation is slowly dawning on the bully that he may have bitten off more than he can chew. And that the little Mr Terror may well live to fight another day. And that fight may not necessarily be on the bully's terms.
I usually tend to root for the underdog. But this is one fight I hope the bully wins. Because, I fear, Mr Terror, the underdog in this case, has all the makings of a big bully.
In the red corner is a rich, overgrown, domineering bully. In the blue corner is a sneaky, spunky little bundle of terror. Gathered around the ring are a bunch of spectators, all of them reluctantly cheering the red corner. Before the slugfest, the bully had warned, you are either with me -- or with him, in which case I will break your teeth.
So the bout begins. The bully rains a series of blows on Mr Terror; he ducks, weaves, takes a few, stumbles, falls. But is back on his feet just before the count is out. The bully's blows are beginning to get predictable. For every blow he lands, there are many he misses, some of them landing on the hapless spectators.
The spectators are beginning to get restive, they had expected a quick kill. It was turning out to be a hard-fought battle. The bully is tiring, the applause is turning towards the underdog. Realisation is slowly dawning on the bully that he may have bitten off more than he can chew. And that the little Mr Terror may well live to fight another day. And that fight may not necessarily be on the bully's terms.
I usually tend to root for the underdog. But this is one fight I hope the bully wins. Because, I fear, Mr Terror, the underdog in this case, has all the makings of a big bully.
# posted by Ashok @ 10:56 PM 
