Sanjay had nothing new to report
And Dritarashtra was becoming impatient
Listening to the same old stories
Repeated ad infinitum, ad nauseam.
OK, not that there are no differences.
Draupatis are not just undressed now,
They are raped and even killed.
Even the soldiers do it in the land of suspected terrorists -
In what was the paradise on the earth.
Terrorists lay siege to progress of all sorts,
Their God alone knows what they want.
We know that they have concealed the face of every Draupati
Behind the veil of ignorance and obscurity.
Even the Durga Shakti genuflects before a sand mafia.
Mafias are guarded by the kings and their minions.
Kings build palaces of twenty-seven storeys.
Indraprastha is a jungle of concrete and avarice.
The Babas of Indraprastha speak words of gold,
Each lecture brings them millions of dollars;
Their queens suck their lust in the night
And go conquering lands in the daytime.
Karma-yogis have become kaama-yogis.
The warrior is in relentless battle for his own sake.
Ah, here's something for a change, said Sanjay with some joy,
The citizens are going to celebrate Independence.
Independence!
Exclaimed Dritarashtra.
Can recalcitrant barnacles stuck to slimy rocks
Be free?
And Dritarashtra was becoming impatient
Listening to the same old stories
Repeated ad infinitum, ad nauseam.
OK, not that there are no differences.
Draupatis are not just undressed now,
They are raped and even killed.
Even the soldiers do it in the land of suspected terrorists -
In what was the paradise on the earth.
Terrorists lay siege to progress of all sorts,
Their God alone knows what they want.
We know that they have concealed the face of every Draupati
Behind the veil of ignorance and obscurity.
Even the Durga Shakti genuflects before a sand mafia.
Mafias are guarded by the kings and their minions.
Kings build palaces of twenty-seven storeys.
Indraprastha is a jungle of concrete and avarice.
The Babas of Indraprastha speak words of gold,
Each lecture brings them millions of dollars;
Their queens suck their lust in the night
And go conquering lands in the daytime.
Karma-yogis have become kaama-yogis.
The warrior is in relentless battle for his own sake.
Ah, here's something for a change, said Sanjay with some joy,
The citizens are going to celebrate Independence.
Independence!
Exclaimed Dritarashtra.
Can recalcitrant barnacles stuck to slimy rocks
Be free?
Nice poem sir...
ReplyDeleteThank you, Gokul. And most welcome in this space.
DeleteVery good attempt.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Nivedita. Attempts are better than doing nothing :)
DeleteVery Nice Poem . . . And yes I also feel the Same about . . .The citizens are going to celebrate Independence.. Ironic.
ReplyDeleteIndependence Day celebration is just another ritual that we have got used to!
DeleteWow, I should say it's enchanting and I was visualizing the whole thing in my head as I read it. Your poem(if that's what we call it)raises a question in the end, the general masses in our country have been bred in such a way that they are habituated to complaining and blaming their leaders. Even the freedom obtained was given not earned. India today would have been way different had we fought and earned our independence by getting chasing the Britishers out. But what Gandhi Ji taught was don't listen, create havoc by non-corporation and leave everything you are doing and stall every progress around you.This got us our freedom, so this still goes on proudly as a ritual in India when somebody is not happy.How can we be free when we never knew what freedom really is?
ReplyDeleteFreedom is a responsibility. We, in India especially, refuse to understand that. As Sartre said, "we are condemned to freedom." Freedom is not a right, it is a condemnation, a condemnation to take up responsibility for ourselves... We can't place the blame on anyone, not even Gandhi...
DeleteWhat would be a solution? I understand we cannot blame no one for our miseries, but what the next step, as an individual, what should one do? where should he start and where should he go? I was wondering
DeleteEvery individual has only ONE duty: live his/her life as best as he/she can.
DeleteBrilliant lines....compelled to ponder again and again
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sanjay. The reporter in the poem, as in Mahabharata, happens to be your namesake.
DeleteThat made me sad. The important thing is to keep speaking out. If we could unite and do so, maybe one day, we will be able to take it a step further than just protesting. As long as our actions are within the law we won't compound the issue.
ReplyDeleteA writer is not an activist. A writer is often an armchair protester. If you are familiar enough with the Indian situation you'll understand that a writer can do little more India.
Deletewell.. Sir ji.. one thing I admire the most about you ..a comment is replied in the same mood :D hahaha I so much feel content :D ..
ReplyDeleteanyways , coming to the post Sir, so appropriately related .. this was .. reminded me of 'Jaane Bhi Do Yaaro' starring Om Puri,Pankaj Kapoor , Naseeruddin and many more classic theater actors ..
Dhritarashtras are not solely responsible .. I feel..
Jack, I'm a teacher primarily. A teacher answers doubts and questions according to the capability of the student. That's why the comments have their own 'individual' "mood". :)
DeleteDritarashtra was blind - like most Kings and Administrators. Sanjay was an honest reporter.
Has the situation in Indraprastha (today's Delhi) changed from those days? OK, let me keep the rest for some othe rtime.
good one sir
ReplyDeleteThanks, Saurabh. Happy that you're becoming regular here.
DeleteHi, I like your blog very much and hence would like to pass you the ABC award. Please collect it here.
ReplyDeletehttp://truethoughts-niranjan.blogspot.in/2013/08/awesome-blog-content-abc-award.html
Thanks, Niranjan, for this pleasant surprise. It's nice to know that one's writing is appreciated.
ReplyDelete'Can recalcitrant barnacles stuck to slimy rocks be free?' Lovely line!
ReplyDeleteI must have been inspired by Richard Bach's opening tale in 'Illusions'. If you've read the novel, you'll remember the creatures in that story remaining stuck to the bottom of the stream and calling out to the one who dared to float, "Saviour, save us!"
DeleteYes, we live in a very depressing world.
ReplyDeleteAnd poetry can be a good escape!
Delete