Breathing fire and brimstone at the likes of some political heavyweights she attacked the utensils with extra gusto and fired the final salvo, ``Hum kal morcha nikalenge kyonki hamare basti me aaj tak paani sab ko milta nahi. Election ke time vada karte hai phir bhool jate hai.'' Bristling with righteous anger, the militant Bhama and vote caster surfed through her mercurial moods with dexterity. The sweeping, swabbing and washing finished in a blur of activity, leaving me speechless with wonder. For otherwise Bhama does all her jobs in slow motion lingering over each chore as over a scented love note! But today was `D-Day' when she had the power in her hand to make or break a future PM of our ancient land where, in the days of yore, the rivers of milk and honey flowed. We now have rivers of greed, corruption and goondaism. Vive La Politics! At the stroke of nine, my good lady laid down her last tool of work and breezily queried, ``Aap nahi jaoge vote dalne? Kisko do ge?'' I wasflummoxed for I am one of those who can't make up their minds about whom to put the seal on! Just before she trotted off, Bhama plucked a rose off the bush, tucked it into her neat bun and with a wave off her hand sashayed out of the gate for a tryst with fate.

Unlike Bhama neither was I enthusiastic about rushing to the polling booth nor was I a born optimist who could spot the silver lining in all the dark clouds threatening to rumble on our Indian political horizon. Jai hind!