A Murder

She carried the electronic voting
Machine herself down the
Corridor of democracy

She stood head held high
And exchanged pleasantries
With the security personnel

She was unarmed, leading a handful
Of men in the red zone
To perpetuate the roulette

She was in sync with the ethos,
Dancing, matching every step
With the anthem sung aloud

The anthem gave a billion right
To share the stage of the
World with pride and honor

Death crossed her path, with
Her car set on fire and
Bullets pumped into her as she

Escaped the smoldering inferno
Her journey was cut short,
But the anthem of democracy

Was sung aloud, drowning
The cacophony of bullets
Bullet riddled she lay motionless

By the side of the charred car!

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Pranab Ghosh is an award-winning Indian journalist and writer, who has worked for major news outlets of the country, including HT Media Ltd., Eenadu Digital, TNIE, Business India group etc.. His books of poems have been published by English and Canadian publishers. Read other articles by Pranab.