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After the cacophonous assertion and drama,
The mercurial Didi’s quiet U turn is noisy.
The rabble-rousing attention seeking Mamata,
Now suddenly supports Pranab Mukherjee.
A grudging compulsion she’s like us to believe,
‘bout this perennial compulsive change of heart,
Like an old man who sees in his habitual fart,
Another sigh of satisfaction, as a brand new relief
And while Didi may wiggle and shamelessly wink,
It’s for all of us to suffer the stink.
But then one President we haven’t had for long,
Is someone from the east, specifically a bong.
That’s how she’ll explain this one of her U Turns,
But U Turns are typical to politicians and worms.
But brother bong Pranab always knew better,
So hoping for her ‘grudging’ support,
He tenaciously continued to cling to her.
Lackluster yes, but in politics he’s an old goat.
The UPA’s feeling much better now,
Assailed as it was on corruption charges.
But some say it was Manmohan who discharges
The backend alliance, handshake and bow.
So other events must now play second fiddle,
Part and parcel of the great India riddle.
One talks of the government probing
Illegal use of government cars roaming.
But on winning Didi they say, even PM played a role,
We have no choice but to believe whatever they dole.
The Labour Bureau statistics have it:
Unemployment rises with education.
But even after retiring, using official car with beacon,
Is former Municipal Commissioner, Mumbai with gumption.
Across, giving the LeT a major reprieve
By rejecting the Judicial Commission report
On 26/11, calling it a waste of time, a Pakistani court
Says without cross-examination, there’s no reason to believe.
Back home, transporters, school bus operators have called
Off their strike, but no one is appalled.
That the government agrees to defer speed governors,
Clearly to parents and children, they prefer transporters.
So this is what we can make of this democratic babudom;
A preserve of moneybags, we’re worse than a kingdom.
If you’re here for the first time, then read the ‘Foreword’ & ‘She hands over the baton’. For readers of poignant sonnets, glance at ‘Nirbhaya’s December’