Elections had ended.
Torn banners with their symbols:
open palms, bicycles, lanterns, elephants
were swinging in the sharp breeze of Chaitra
from the branches of trees;
posters plastered on city walls
were fodder to the starved stray cattle;
the enormous cot-outs of the greats
were being ferried back to dusty garages
the young leaves and buds
on the trees sparkled as
the sinless red lips, and cheeks
of the kids.
Elections had ended.
Decorated arches had been uprooted
leaving only holes in the asphalt
no slogans, no speeches breathing fire;
only silence heaped as mountain
in the days’ heat.
Promises, frauds, deceits
were being cooked in the dark womb
of vote boxes
for the hungry millions,
defining their future.
Elections had ended.
Sitakant Mahapatra is a renowned Odia poet who has been awarded the Jnanpith and the Padma Vibhushan.
