When in doubt, poke the beehive with a stick to see if anything interesting flies out. I clapped my hands. 'I had no idea Pit teams had such pretty cheerleaders. Can you do it again, but with more spirit this time?
Place a beehive on my grave And let the honey soak through. When I'm dead and gone, That's what I want from you. The streets of heaven are gold and sunny, But I'll stick with my plot and a pot of honey. Place a beehive on my grave And let the honey soak through.
Their thought is India is a beehive (Madhumakhi Ka Chhata) but our thought is India is our Mother (Maata). Their thought is poverty is a state of mind, our thought is that the poor are manifestation of Almighty. Their thought is to divide and rule, our thought is to integrate and do development. Their soch is Vanshvaad, our soch is Rashtravaad. They say Rajneeti is everything, we say Rashtraneeti is everything. Your thought is to save the chair, our thought is to save the nation.
...I also know - and this won't alter the course of history or your personal view of me - that you will die with a clenched fist and a tense jaw, the epitome of hatred and struggle, because you are not a symbol (some inanimate example) but a genuine member of the society to be destroyed; the spirit of the beehive speaks through your mouth and motivates your actions. You are as useful as I am, but you are not aware of how useful your contribution is to the society that sacrifices you.
I was a big and un-ironic fan of Dear Abby when I was a kid in Chicago. I think I sort of internalized her. So I have this inner Abby: cranky, proper, folksy yet scathing, with a beehive hairdo. But that's my issue.