The queue ..

In times of VIP passes, special darshan, gold club check ins, privilege banking  this was a rare queue .... where money, privilege, celebrity had to wait .. in a queue .. for its turn .. a queue where  designer cotton rubbed against mud stained crumpled cheap synthetic .. where id cards didnt have ‘Platinum’, ‘Gold’, Silver on them , where the fragrance of expensive perfume from  bodies pampered by air conditioned cars, mingled with the  odour  of sweat of hard labour ....

 fingers roughened, ridged, scarred and those delicately manicured .. all received the same dab of ink .. dabbed in the same careless way ...

wonder if this queue will vote for a fairer world .. may not ... but the queue itself was a thread of possibility floating in an otherwise cess pool of a vulgar living depravity .....