The evening was regular, boring and still
Till messages started popping up…
“ Now’s the time for some thrill!”
The goose bumping speech, lasted a while,
was just the beginning, yet made the nation’s thieves rile.
Now comes the pink, in the Indian treasury,
those locked up bundles underneath, became a source of misery.
The night seemed short, the counting was on,
the green paper lost its crispness, confusion thereon.
Thinking about the corrupt, the poor pensioner had a peaceful sleep,
the question all over was, “What will happen to our reap?”
The moon that night seemed to shine with a glowing spark,
the night too was celebrating the win of light over dark.
The next day was to bring some chaos,
The reactions were mixed, the commoner praising, “ Kudos, kudos.”
The aim for change was challenged a lot,
the bundles of money found sailing through the waters, were the source of making India a rot!
The long queues were a ray of hope,
altogether standing, ever ready to cope.
Brought in people of all shades, the ‘Fifty day’ promise made by the one, to never fade.
May this poem make people realise,
to show India its beauty, in disguise.