Family Ritual

I am gladdened by the realization
That Fidelity is not the strongest virtue
Of my generation
As I watch my grandmother
Slowly draping
Her sandalwood scented voil saree
Across her wilted breasts

And outside the family waits
My brother with the car engine revving
My aunt with the door held open
For the matriarch
I fear, she has spent too many hours
Listening to false promises being made

So now we shall go together
To the polling center
As the happy family we are
Despite our differences

I walk her down the queue
Up to the booth (special preference to old age
In this part of the world, it’s better than being young
And powerless)
I wait till she slowly lifts the pencil
Adjusts her spectacles
To cross out, I suddenly feel, my own fate

I return to the queue
And wait
With the fortunate majority
My teeth gritting
In wild revolt