The museum

I finally made it to the British Museum. Though it has been nearly three years since I first set foot in this country, I had never really got on with discovering London. Though previously I had trashed London as being uninteresting, I do admit it can be quite promising at times. Two weeks earlier, I had been to the Imperial War Museum. This time around, it’s the British Museum. I had gathered a lot of hype about it. Almost everyone marvelled at how fabulous it was.
Admittedly, I’m not an arty person. I really have no clue about paintings and laundry stains people pass off as art. My friends convinced me that this was no art gallery but a vast collection of things from around the world.
The place indeed is fabulous. The collections are massive. But, you see, it is all loot from around the world. It’s not like the Egyptians gave up the mummies. “Yeah o’right mate, you can ‘ave it”. Nor can I imagine the Brits asking the Egyptians “Please my good Sir, could we have the mummy?”. They are more likely to have said “Ahmed, load the trucks”. The same applies to the Indian and Tibetan idols. I am quite sure they didn’t ask anyone before borrowing them either. In that scale, this is probably the world’s largest collection of stolen goods.
In the entrance of the huge building is a sign sanctimoniously proclaiming that the entry to the museum has been free since 1753. And a box next to it is marked for any donations. Loot the world and ask for donations to keep the loot.