Manogat Marathi essay of a statue | EKA PUTLYACHE MANOGAT ESSAY IN MARATHI.

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Manogat Marathi essay of a statue | EKA PUTLYACHE MANOGAT ESSAY IN MARATHI.

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Manogat Marathi essay of a statue | EKA PUTLYACHE MANOGAT ESSAY IN MARATHI.


Manogat Marathi essay of a statue | EKA PUTLYACHE MANOGAT ESSAY IN MARATHI.

Hello friends Today we are thinking of a statue We will look at Marathi essays. I don’t remember exactly, it must have been a hundred years, otherwise it would have happened. Some people have made me stand here. I am standing; But where did that church that kept me standing go? For the first 8/10 years, the congregation came regularly.

To compliment me In this city Saying everything is my signature. I took the initiative in bringing the train, the electricity came to this city by my own inspiration, I started the textile mills supplying the world and to accomplish this the goals were to expand this city, develop the city dwellers, prosper the people.

No one is coming much now. Why electricity? What do you want to see in that flash of lightning? Dirty, ugly and ugly city? I had a castle. Now a 20/25 storey building stands on the site of that castle.

Well done, second because of that tall building I don’t see people living like ants in the side huts. Not many people come here these days. Birds are fearlessly perched on my shoulders. Sometime an alcoholic comes, sits down and insults me.

Yes, and someday a beggar comesHe collects food on two or four coals and sits on it with fever. Once upon a time, I went crazy. A huge crowd had gathered in front of me. I don’t understand why these people have gathered. Then I found out that there was an election and some party remembered me.

He was giving a speech till his throat cleared. Was taking my name from time to time. The chief guest did his best. He was addressing me. For our country, this man is like sandalwood. This ‘great son of Bharatmata’ stopped in the middle and asked in the President’s ear,

‘What, this man’s name ? ‘ Then he was mispronouncing my name and saying, ‘You know his great work. So I don’t have to say that. What to say He did not know my work.

Listening to their speeches made me mine Colleagues remembered. What a man she was. A heart of steel, as high as a mountain, as pure as the waters of Gangamai, honest, transparent, where did it go? Where are their lucky descendants?

Today is the day when blonde has gone We knew he had to go, though. But the black man who came in his place -? How could that man speak so kindly, work so hard! You won’t see me bursting. Because I’m hard-hearted, am I not?

My child friends, one says. Aikal? When you grow up, never erect a statue of anyone, anywhere, ever. Because he has to watch his death step by step. Friends, you can also comment on how you felt about this essay. Thanks