Saturday, January 21, 2012


The Chennai Sun was at His noon best
“41 degrees” mumbled the one to my next
my waning age warned me to leave the queue
my decades of commitment did not cue

“Sixth time” I reckoned “That clean shaven giant
in shabby shirt, slipping down lungi and half-faint
in seesaw condition intrude in to the next line
I saw the others near to him, realign
Pinching their noses and move distant”

“That bearded ruffian for the eighth time
and that short one in black T-shirt for the fifth time
I see at least a dozen such hoodlums” complained
A bit aloud my neighbor in our line
“Chup, chup, don’t invite trouble; they may have guns”,
his friend argued, “Do you need all this at this sixty plus?”

“Did you see, near that Eastern road junction?
Five groups are dispensing whisky and gin
In fact that queue is bigger than here!” he queried

“Yesterday night they doled out in the village
saris and currency notes at each door;
and gallons of arrack they poured out to the poor
do you know that?” his friend did report
The rule is simple, “Votes for notes!
That’s all! No comments!!!”

“We must tell Anna” the first oldie said well-determined
His friend clarified with an understandable grin

Anna is minding the few coveted hundreds at the top
You are looking at the naked millions
at the bottom of the democratic rock

Painting the leaves green, won’t make the plant alive
We must water a billion grass roots
and doctor their ignorant and fickle minds

WE need more than ONE Anna to mend”

 Poet- anuradha

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