The Voting Day Dilemma

Standing there, staring at the machine that lay in front of you, you wonder who are these people that lay in front of you. Symbols that seemed familiar but faces strange.

Who are these people, where did thy come from, who were they, what were their qualifications? The fairweather people that you only see around the time, making promises they don’t intend to keep, tall claims that were shorter than they exaggerated to be. You have so many questions zipping through your head with no answer in sight. Well, not all of them seemed unfamiliar. A few known faces among the mix. But do you give them that what they seek from you? Or did they even care?

It had been a muted campaign season, as if all seemed resigned to their faith, to the inevitable. So there was little or no information of the people who’s picture you stared at. So you are left in a quandary of whom to give what you felt like an insignificant press. No matter what you chose the outcome seemed already set in stone which ever you looked at it.

So standing there you try to make a decision. Do you be impulsive and press anyone of them, or do you let your emotions get a better of you and let it influence your decision, after all you had the feels for Aarey and the job market, and the nation as you perceived it, or you plan inky-pinky-ponky to make your choice.

Your finger kind of inching towards the button you want to press though there’s doubts lingering in your head, biting you whether it was the right one. You didn’t have the whole day, work beckoned, life beckoned, and the people outside in the queue beckoned, ok they didn’t beckon, maybe gave you a couple of gaalies.

So you reluctantly make your choice and wonder if it’s the right one. But then you  made your bed and now you need to lay in it. So you leave the polling station accepting the choice you’ve made, having performed you civic duty.