Friday, June 16, 2017

the knowing

the world looked at him sideways
edged past quickly to give him space
to their eyes, he seemed rather weird
a thing to be shunned rather than feared
he did not fit neatly into their plans
conceived carefully or crafted by chance
he did not know how to follow their rules
(sired as he was perhaps by fools?)
everything about him seemed so wrong
(what was right was he did not belong)
why, even the tide fought him at first swim
and in life, only a handful understood him
yet his great glorious strength did stem
that of the handful – he was one of them.

ram cobain

Thursday, June 08, 2017


Privilege sits in a corner, crying
Sobbing that the embers in the fireplace are dying
while pyres of the forgotten blaze and burn
into dead heaps of ashes with no urn.

ram cobain

(Pic courtesy Google)

Thursday, May 25, 2017

three years of poetry

the Muslim chewed quickly on his beef
worrying the doorbell might bring him grief
street children, they starved once again
as their money was spent on a bullet train
ex-servicemen pondered another hunger strike
over long fake vows over a pension hike
porn blinked out from internet browsers
and khadi chaddis grew fast into trousers
doctored videos became the rage
and history textbooks tweaked many a page
the ‘terrorist’ Afzal Guru was called a martyr
when there were found some MPs to barter
students were beaten up in open court
while the saffron flag fluttered in happy sport
the cost of pulses stayed above the roof
and the horse, Shaktiman, lost more than a hoof
of black money, there wasn’t seen a single buck
the Swiss ATMs, perhaps they all were stuck?
farmers continued to struggle for hope
and often found it at the end of a rope
the Pakis were allowed inside our airbase
they looked here, there and showed us our place
the cry of “anti-national” came to be heard
for development is a much longer word
but yes, all wasn’t grim, one must agree
there was quite a laugh over a degree
and Indians rediscovered pride from shame
on a suit that chanted one single name
and as Adani triumphed over Birla and Tata
none was happier – than Bharat Mata
thus two years came to a close
with the lotus not smelling like a rose
and then hurray, more ‘Achche Din’ came
days that made the yesteryears look tame
now, majority mob justice became the law
while convicts pleaded; their skin stripped raw
proud vigilante-murderers did it for the cow
as lynching became a milked mass love
now, school girls stepped out in the valley
clutching stones from nook, lane and alley
but the boldest, most daring achievement
was to ensure white money couldn’t be spent
big currency was demonized overnight
without a care for the common man’s plight
“it will stop corruption!”, they shouted
“and can such a masterstroke ever be doubted?”
soon irony drowned in its own shallow spit
as political funding became anonymous, without limit
meanwhile on the grand global stage
our future turned a dim new page
our best buddy, Russia grew less of a friend
while Pakistan luckily didn’t have to pretend
China just changed names in Arunachal
and in Parliament, there wasn’t a moment dull
for Article 370, there wasn’t found political will
while Aadhar was snuck inside the Money Bill
and over 70000 people were said to lose their jobs
yet Mann ki Baat never once heard their sobs
the Panama Papers, they never were read
because patriotism kept the masses well-fed
but lest I be labelled as incorrigibly left wing
the good to your notice, I must also bring
yes, there was cause for fulsome praise
as the GDP rose in unaccounted ways
but the real blessing, the undeniable true gain
Is that hopefully – only two more years remain.

ram cobain
(Pic courtesy Google)