Government Nouns: Dowry
Rife anticipation steeps the stairs of 48 Hospital Road, awaiting election week politicians and their musty trail of sycophants that picked this way today, and that way day after. Non-aligned salaried sloganeers are always the first to turn the corner in a rain of newspaper confetti - familiar burned faces and gruffy voices from yesterday’s rally for somebody else. Dancing among them are dirty footed alley children of tomorrow, simple and celebratory, uncaring and unmusical. Behind them, a Jeep of loudspeakers crowding like tics to flesh on makeshift wooden poles, announcing the many promises of popularist gifts in exchange for votes. Inside the Jeep, a villainous bundobust of drunks with clubs, promising unannounced repercussions for non- or different party votes. MGR follows in another Jeep, with his inexplicably charming slanty smile, hidden hangover shades, fluffy hat, the diamonds in his Rolex shimmering with every wave and thank you. The women swoon starstruck and are dragged awa
