Waste Land

1.  The Burial of the Dead

April is the cruellest month, stirring

The winter-frozen blood in the veins, rousing

Mosquitoes and dust storms, dousing

The light in the souls with the fire of the sun.

You came riding waves of promises,

Development topped the list,

Quality was sought in and through workshops,

Sweatshops are what we are left with.

Unreal City,

Under the glare of the blaring sun,

A crowd flowed over bulldozed debris,

Performing the rituals chanted by the Guru.

“You! hypocrite lecteur! – mon semblable, - mon frère!”

2.  A Game of Chess

The Chair she sat in itched her bum with allergens,

Her dress, words and smile sanitised by detergents,

“Your move, your move,” cried she ready to pounce

On the King on every board, every board she played against

Keeping multiple gadgets alive on her capacious crowded table.

“Bulldozer,” people called her.

Queen, she considered herself.

Heads rolled when she smiled.

Tails wagged when she screamed.

The Guru chanted mantras of success

For her the chessmen transmuted into pawns.

Before her the world prostrated

And the Guru laughed his way to the bank.

3.  The Fire Sermon

The chelas lit the fires

On pyres of protests

Ghar Vapsi, ghar vapsi,

Chanted the fires

That danced in the darkness

Of development built on infinite debris.

4.  Death by Sun

The bulldozer took on feminine agility

And achieved multiple orgasms beneath variegated costumes

When the April sun scorched the souls

That longed for spring rains and resurrection.

5.  What the Thunder Said

Datta

Dayadhvam

Damyata

But there was no thunder

There is no promise in the Waste Land

Except farts from bums

Rested on chairs that cause allergy.

Note: The poem is a silly parody of T S Eliot's famous poem of the same title and same parts. I admire Eliot. I claim nothing. Not even understanding Eliot.  I'm not worthy to lick his boots. But I love his imageries.  I love the way he can tease us out of our complacencies.  Out of our hypocrisy, perhaps.  Not out of our greed, I'm sure. Greed for power and wealth and land and...