Not yet

A burning desire.

To behead the monarch.

Terribly mislead citizens.

Yet facing the pain.

Shouting.

Democracy, democracy.

No monarchy.

They demand.

Everyone in that beautiful hell.

A few men created for all.

Out of sheer unemployment.

And too much of education.

Filled with hatred.

Pushed the masses directly.

To face the king.

There is no such thing.

Called monarchy or democracy.

It is all in the mind.

Poverty of the thoughts.

Poverty of the soul.

Too poor you are.

My friends.

Won't be able to pay the price.

That the bargainers will decide.

Long live the king.

For the king won't be dead.

You will still be ruled.

Only this time.

The king will be you.

About to

The time has come.

So have the rains.

Yet it is not true.

For the prayers are not complete.

So the rains are.

Incomplete.

The time is not for the little beads.

But the little flowers.

And the tiny leaves.

It is a small gift for them.

For it is the new year.

So are they.

The rains have very little to say.

Just sprinkle them with cold water.

And let them feel.

What water is.

Up there.

Waiting for monsoon.

Welcome Spring

The vacation has ended.

The Gods are back.

Spring is here.

So are the rains.

It isn't raining.

It definitely will.

The freedom of those in chains.

From those who want to be in.

The growing numbers every day.

The traffic is long.

The journey looks fast.

But again is slow.

Everything is crawling.

Everyone is crawling.

Yet they look fast.

For the mind is overworked.

To produce fruits.

Which won't help anyone.

The Gods are back.

Now everything will be fine.