For the demagogue

One bullet is enough
To destroy a dream
We saw this happen
In his unblinking eye
A hole in his head
His hot fluid blood
Now a cold carmine lump
Amidst wild grass
A tired dark streak
Dangles down his upper lip
His mouth agape
Counting the numbers
Sent to the other world
In the blood splurge
To win the power game
Those who had hailed him
As their messiah
Are silent now
As his corpse lies in the mud
Already he has become
History’s forgotten footnote
Their eyes now search
For another avatar
A demagogue who’d become
A messiah and a martyr

*****

By Randeep Wadehra

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