Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Open defecation by a young Indian

One India is flying.

The other is dying everywhere.

From the jungles of North-East India.

To the coal fields of Bihar

And the cotton fields of Maharashtra.

The other Indian dies every moment.

The Wi-fi death follows him all the time.

The tiny voice at the back of the head screams.

Let there be quota. Let there be quota.

Quota for limited corruption, murders and suicides.

This and no more will you plunder.

Your self-esteem and ego.


And your culture.

In these six decades you finished yourself.

Now you are the followers of Ramdev and Ravishankar.

Narayan Murthy and Lakshmi Mittal.

Oh! I forgot the Tata.

And the once Brothers in Arms.

Let's not talk about bollywood.

The other Indian is the follower of the stone gods.

And any other he wishes to follow.

He is free to choose.

Enjoys personal dips in the cold Ganges in Sankranti in public.

Walks to the Amarnath and to the Great Kumbh.

The other half enjoys-

Drinking his Pepsi and munching the potato chips.

Clicking with his 5.1 megapixel camera.

Chanting the mantra of "I am khool"

"Fuck off maaan......Get some life........"

"India is khool......"

Girls discontinue school.

For there is no toilet for them there.

So their bladders don't support the little education.

That they need.


The growing: to be mothers of tomorrow.

Haven't grown physically and mentally.

To give birth to awesome kids.

Which Narendra spoke about a century back.

But they are producing Maoists and we have let them produce.

They are producing guns and killing innocent people.

And we have let them do so.

I see a pulsating dynamic revolutionary.

Coming close to get hold of your neck.

And then twist it like the butcher twists the poor chicken.

Let's fuck stop this talk about these people who don't exist in our fucking lives.

Thursday, January 04, 2007

The Blu-Ray of hope

We are in the new year.

Happy New Year to all.

There was rise and there was fall.

Last time I remember.

Passing through these unknown lanes.

Of fibre optics and blinking blue lights.

With blu-rays showing the way.

Which wasn't there before.

I felt uncertainity all over me.

Things ended with a hangman and a mobile clip.

Let he be in peace and let the world be too.

Things started with the revelation of the motives.

One big fish gulping other twice its size.

Another trying hard to gulp or to chew.

Lessons for a few.

Open thy mouth as much as you can chew.

Or be left bleeding in your circle.

Body bags all over the cargo bay.

Fresh cement for fresh bodies.

Freshly laid forever in thy own motherland.

Dead somewhere for some reason buried here for the same.

People still crying for the lost ones.

My lines still lamenting the untold loss.

From ice-bergs melting to species getting extinct.

Day by day.

With heavy-metal in my ears.

I welcome the new year.

With open arms.

Welcome 2007