Passions erupted from tranquil reveries
Of sorrow and gay sceneries-
Exciting Euphrosyne and Melancholy
Soothing senses in serenity.
In this divine gift cleped poesy
Entice I ever sans misery.
Monday, 17 May 2021
AFSPA
In the land of the mighty heroes of valour
That rivaled the bravest warriors of Greece
They came and renounced everything we favour
Protection they promised, protection they seized.
Mum was our voices we relentlessly wailed
Maimed was our spirits we clung on
In broad daylight, darkness prevailed
In panic, hope was never gone.
Our protests washed up upon the tides
Like the carcasses of lifeless bodies
Disappeared eerily in countless nights
In that bloody tide that was our identity.
Women deflowered and children orphaned,
Unscathed was only the spirit that never lowered
And corpses piled up as high as our mountains
But we never cowered like cowards.
I am like you
I am like you
I am no indifferent.
I too come from the land
Of the birth of religions
Just like you
My brothers and sisters.
I am like you
I don't eat cats and dogs
Stop calling me Chinese or Japanese.
I too am a true born Indian
with Indian blood
Just like you
My brothers and sisters.
I am like you
Though I don't look
Or talk like you,
I see and speak
Just like you
My brothers and sisters.
I am like you
I dwell with forests and mountains
But don't treat me like an ape man,
I too enjoy equal benefits
As any equal Indian
Just like you
My brothers and sisters.
Please,
Stop making us disappear
from your big cities
Please,
We will vanish sooner
than the Bengal Tiger
Please.
I am just like you
My brothers and sisters.
Emptiness
Everywhere I go,
I find something missing
Wherever I am,
I am always searching
Always missing, always searching
Never finding.
Perhaps,
It's the spirit of youth
That pictured everything jolly
Faded long ago
Like the spirit of Nature
With its vibrant shades of gaudiness.
Perhaps,
It's the essence of hospitality
That beheld everyone lovely
Faded long ago
Like the essence of Family
With its amiable laughter and bickers.
Maybe,
It's only I
Who is as empty
As abandoned houses in villages
Who is as lonely
As isolated trees in cities.
Everywhere I go,
I will always be missing.
Wherever I am,
I will always be searching.
Unkempt feelings
Unkempt feelings erupt inside
As a fiery volcano in all its might
Gaudy and many are the clothes in my closet
Enough to fill the racks in an outlet
Yet owned by whom adorn them not
Lonely and somber are they gilded by the moth.
Whilst the sun shines, mine closet trembles
The shoes, they wend, they rend, they assemble
As if to ask I to air them, to clean them, to wear them
But I attire not which are eternally damned.
Whilst the rain falls, mine closet wails
The closet, it blubbers, it bickers, it ails
But how could it ever silence its sorrow
When its deserter seeks deluge morrow?
Whilst the snow falls, mine closet grumbles
The coats, they wend, they rend, they assemble
As if to ask I to dust them, to clean them, to wear them
But I attire not which are eternally damned.
Whist the swallow twitters, I ponder
And I wonder if I could wander
And shed that confines I a loner
And with glee, trail the vales yonder.
Whilst the water ripples, I bemuse
A time when my elegy and I fuse
A place my ballads and I use
A moment, when I could gaze the hues
Whilst my closet trembles, I wonder
If I could shoo the moth and sunder
The strife and wander the places I condemned
But I desire not which are eternally damned.
Moody and gloomy are the clothes in my closet
Enough to reek the crevices of mine outlet.
On Emmett Till’s lynching
She said he offended her
She said he abused her
She said he grabbed her waist
She said he called her names.
They abducted him
They beat him
They mutilated him
They shot him
They lynched him.
His pleas washed up in the Tallahatchie river
His innocence dispersed in the jury
His frame mangled in the open casket
But they weren't guilty.
They couldn't be guilty,
They still can't be.
She lied,
He died.
He was right.
But she was white.
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