Reading Sangam Poetry, I Think of Amit Shah

Yes, some of our
feelings are ancient:
how we yearn for a lover,
like we yearn for a breeze 
when our soggy shirts cling
in the damp August heat–

but this August, 
some things feel new:
how the king and we know
his power has waned–
his thousand year rule
could end any day.

Meanwhile Chanakya frets
as he paces darkened halls–
he’s making late night calls;
he’s pounding on MHA walls.