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Coward



They hailed him a great nationalist
when he stopped writing politics
and turned to blogging about food and fad.
He had started donning a waistcoat of a particular cut.

Please, don’t insult me calling me a cultural leader:
His heart pleaded, silently.
What culture am I to lead?
Grabbing, raping and lynching?
Culture of hate that masquerades as patriotism?

When the TV channels were busy finding
accolades for the political leaders,
the cultural leader was forming
WhatsApp groups for neo nationalists.

The arrests of honest people didn’t disturb
the cultural leader’s devotion to WhatsApp.
Nor did the disappearance of hearts from writers.
Nor did the death of poetry on the wayside.
Nor did the rape of justice on the highway.

He knew the truth, however,
in the core of his heart.
That he was nothing more than a coward.



This article will throw light on the poem. 

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