The Secret Society

By Lynn Ockersz

Having solemnly accepted,

His two thousand rupee sop,

Punchi Rala breaks into an ironic laugh,

As he ambles back to his shack,

For, the days ahead are dismal and long,

And this pittance from on high,

Cannot stoke his hearth back to life,

But the white-shirted hulking chap,

Proud owner of the posh house over the fence,

Has bought yet another bulky SUV car,

Leaving the small fry around gape-mouthed,

While providing the clinching evidence,

That two economies stand side-by-side;

One, formal and bland, meets the public eye,

The other, elusive and black, thrives under wraps,

And fattens contractors tied-up with the political class.

Thank you

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