It takes a high to scribble
about souls so abominable
nonchalant trash talks
myopic, equivocal semantics
high on platitude
all for lucre, nothing for home
blatant vote bank politics.
the sorry tales of the hypocrites...
the sorry tales...
(
repugnant to the sense of decency yet they seem so alien to the very thing; it is so so fugly)
this is a psalm of my beloved: the Nehrus, Gandhies, Thackreys,
Lalitas, Badals, Advanis, Mayavatis, Gowdas, Yadavs
and scores of Singhs.
posterity with all pristine DNA
all incessant immortal souls
readily attesting the progenitor.
the tales of the swivel chair..
the sorry tales...
(bloody terrorists failed to blew up the Parliament, the Pentagon; the Pandemonium...
Now how dare they feast on the innocents, feeble lives of merry???)
once in a while
more frequent off late
namaste, a spurious smile, jai bharat mata ki
door to door, the same tantrums
dusting out the old promises, the very same speeches,
for the nth time
as if his father has come back to life.
(the real outsiders were here, but the uncle-nephew rather hid in their cowardice... but when quoted on camera they have the all season-ready BS to deliver)
an unwilling resignation is at loss to convince
obfuscating elections,
like straightening deck chairs on the titanic
up against a brick wall
templates of attrition
so jaded to vote, Meh!
yearn for the sunrise on the dark horizon,
sunrise on the dark horizons...
(who to vote for, leaves us as comfortable as a bum on a porcupine, so i prefer a nap over the ordeal... but very often we pay a heavy price with sleepless nights for the very nap we just could not fight )
they have left million in the tracks,
but unwittingly we've made a paradise,
for them to encroach n change
caught in the thick on thin,
now run helter-skelter for cover,
the echos of gunfire, grenades are here.
pointing fingers have spun into pointing guns.
(Sir, i wonder if you could not shake a leg, shove that fat ass of yours a bit more!
Son, Pakistan, China, US, the former governments, lack of resources, time lines, opposition, the govt.... scores of alibis, apocryphal.
oh man, i wish i could deport them to Moon, only if we had hundreds of chandrayans )
u know what is really petty?
staunchest ally of evil ain't
the Islamic green or Hindu saffron
or Sikhs' khanda sahib or cross of Christ
it is these demons who take us for a all round spree.
(
the derogatory remarks: aisa chota mota hadsa itne bade desh mein to ho hi jata hai is what they have after all is blown away)
Play it down, they preach
as they race away with their entourage
in guzzling, fortified SUVs.
the talks of theirs retaliation catches eyeballs
only when cricket is called off.
media abuzz with tearful anecdotes
all fizzles out as anger instills
when we hear them speak
.
(we condemn, we stand united, my heart goes out, we ll teach a fitting lesson, tribute to martyrs,
this inhumane act ll not be tolerated, common minimum program, fight against terror, secularism, equal opportunities.... the list is endless, all no gospel...)
some years down the line,
democracy such a stunning beauty,
demagogues shoot her point-blank.
all in cold blood
anxiety in the hallway,
don't know if she will make it through.
(but don't u think we're as responsible as they are supposed to be, the sorry tale is as much our's as it is their's)
the present is what we have,
to recuperate her well being.
i don't trust god for them to rot in hell
can't help feeling dismayed, loosing drive
but don't you see?
no fire, no nature, no grave
can put this endemic to rest.
We've got to do our shoelaces, stand up
to stop the chicken on its way to the butcher.
as our heroes die, do we've a leader who would give an arm and leg for the country? If we want f#%*$#g CHANGE then we better be that CHANGE.
