Elections again! on the surface
a faceoff between two forces,
each supine on false-bottomed canoes,
amid waters turbulent, treacherous.

Their agenda was only a cosmetic
to tap the market of vote;
Their candidates of all hues an
affront to what they swore by rote.

Even their agenda was Janus-faced,
Januses ranging behind the door,
pulling strings, calling the shots,
keeping their boroughs a quagmire.

“Grab the gaddi” is the hidden motto,
not to rinse nation but one’s own closet,
mucked up with unsavoury acts!
Present a dainty look, keep the loot.

With market murkier than a tornado,
firms fall faster than a meteor.
White-collar stream itch for a fast buck.
cities caught in the tunnel of scare.

Vote makes even a pauper a King, his
regal feathers stirred by bugle’s call,
His hamlet’s biases manacle his choice,
yet vote frees him from the day’s toil.

Game of dice after the day of ballot!
Januses plot to pull the other down,
making commerce of history’s curse,
condemn the land to numbed oblivion.

Few steps to the door of the millennium.
Tired eyes shy away from a peep beyond,
rediscovering a scene already seen,
of an old Adivasi stumbling to a deadend.