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Admired I
The Hollow Men by T.S.Eliot,The Little Black Boy by William BlakeFor poetic inspirationAnd I looked up to in utter admiration.
Nathuram, don’t you,
Sad for Gandhi,The great old manWhom shot you dead,Nathuram?Nathuram,Why did you, Gandhi,Why did you,Don’t you,Don’t you feel sad for?
I saw
Shiva lingaIn a dreamMystically,The supernatural auraLuring meFor a worship.
How did they partitions and divide
The Indian nation,How the freedom fighters and nationalists,Bigots and zealots,The politicians and leaders,Separatists and religionists?
Absurd Drama
Why are weAnd for what?What are we waiting for,Who is it to turn up?The Theatre of SilenceWhere the artistesRehearsingBehind the curtain?Why the theatre silentWithout people,Without shows,The gallery fallen silent?ChandramukhiClutching starsInto her hand,Where is she going?Where the belleWith jasmines into her hair,Beaming with and going?Sparkling,Sparkling and going,Glistening and glowing to pass out of sight.
The modern age
Engineering and construction,Roads and links,Bridges and dams,Electricity and housing,Post offices and telegraphs.The modern ageOf the radio, the cinema,The theatre and cosmetics,The television,The telephone,The wireless handset,The textiles.Had the food been notIn the belly,Had clothing been not,Good houses to dwell in,Could we have been modern,Had we not gone to schools,Had there been not courts and police stations?