The Demo-car

They say, it’s your own car,
But they don’t bother to teach you to drive it.
Instead they advise you to elect a driver, and so you do it.
You simply sit in the rear seat of your own car,
Feeling proud for you have someone to drive you places.
Until you see the car getting ruined by the careless driving.

You change the drivers once in a while; you pay for the repairs,
But you still don’t try to drive the car and there is none to teach you.
Pity you; you never think you can learn it by yourself.
And so drivers move in and out enjoying your car.
Driving you places so recklessly and unprofessionally.
And when you are at home, you despondently look at your car,
Through window panes crying at its humiliating shape.

You wanted to save it for your children,
You wanted them to ride the way you always dream off.
You wash it daily; you apply turmeric and vermilion.
You garland it and finally hand it over to your driver,
Shifting your place to the rear seat, keeping fingers crossed,
About reaching home safe.

I pity you,
For you can’t believe in the drivers you selected,
I pity you,
For you never tried to ride the car since you own it,
I pity you,
For you feel like an outsider in your own car,
Thats how democracy is like. Thats how you, me and all live in here like.

I pity.
Aroon Che