Dedicated to this Election

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Now that all is over, I mean this election
Isn’t it time for some patient reflection?
Queued is a frustrated India waiting for a hopeful resurrection,
In an election fought hard and bad with words filled with objection.

Some leaders you disliked and many you worshiped; they all fed on your affection,
When rallies traveled to far-off places of voter action
Moods fluctuated, colors changed and glamour waned when warned of inaction.
A silent reminder, it was, of the power in that voting button selection.

Oil and water were people they claimed and split in to bar charts on television,
Would never mix these elements claimed experts of misdirection.
Will the experts stand in front of people’s jury for introspection?
Ha, they were showmen raking TRPs like casino-goers doing point collection.

Those empty stomachs and quiet wails without a vision,
Will benefit from our proud selection,
Is but a dream waiting to be real for years in collection!
This is but another chance waiting for course correction.

Now that all is over, I mean this election,
What will I eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner, with no spice on TV for selection,
Curd rice in canteen now goes back to that stale plate of infection,
and with colleagues, I wonder, what will be my common point of discussion!

Now that all is over, I mean this election,
Can I go back to work and strive for that promising promotion?

 

  ~Trilok~