ELECTION FURORE - TENZIN GYATSO

Slogan shouting, flag fluttering jeeps hog the roads,

Disdainfully elbowing aside the local taxis,

That are also scampering to and fro,

In this hotch potch election cum tourist season,

Even the first ‘trun’ cabs have ditched,

Their daily office going fares,

Who stand waiting disconsolately by the roadside.

A jobless, bored youth happily declares,

“Well, what do you know!

This deadbeat town’s suddenly come alive!”

Yes! It’s election time! Zindabad! Hurray!

So villagers, let us rally around our generous MLA,

(And not to forget his worthy opponent in the fray).

Now is simply not the time to delay and dither like a stuffed goat,

Or you are liable to miss the ruddy boat.

So shake a leg, my fellow village bumpkins.

We can lay off eating saag, iskoos and pumpkins.

Let us all cram into the jeeps and make them burst at the seams;

For its free rides, free food and free drinks all the way!

Beyond our wildest dreams!

And yes, it is said that it is only during elections,

That our Netas are known to have weak erections.

Simply because their thoughts are focused in one direction;

To secure the coveted Kursee is their devout benediction.

So let us cheer and slogan chant,

And at times even rave and rant.

For once the Netas are elected and become earthy gods…

Well, it’s back to saag and iskoos for us dumb sods.

(the poet is a resident of Sajong-Rumtek)