Gandhi,

Narrated from the architectural point of view,The poem recreates the mystical experiencesOf the night of sadhnaAnd the sadhakas undergoing the test,The myth of Kali deswcribed raciallyAnd archetypallyFelt during the visit to the shrineAnd to converting it into the Night of Kali,Terrible Kali.

Asking,Searching for the Ultimate Truth,The Eternal TruthWhich but guides,Guides ultimatelyWhen disbelief in beliefHolds,Keeps barredBecoming Light to unto thyselfWhich is but inextinguishable.But the Boat of Life keeps it going,Drifting on,Floating over the surf and foamOf worldly mire,SnaresBut the Truth is Truth,The Eternal TruthSo look to it,As look I to myself.

To be immersed in,Swept intoThe river watersTelling ofWhat it lived it here,What saw I it here.Ashes,Ashes,The bodily ashes,My ashes,Ashes,The remains of the body.

Meri bitia,Cchoti-shi, nanhi-shiMeri bitia.Agar tumhe kucch dukha hota haiTo mujhe kahana,Mujhe kahanaMeri beti,Nanhi-shi,Pyari-shi!My daughter,Never be you sad,My daughter,Smallest, leanestMy daughterIf feel you sorrow say you at leastTo me,Say to meMy daughter,Leanest,Loveliest!

We must give to themAs how can it beThat we shall remain in healthAnd they will struggleFor medicines of survival?This I have not learnt from my homeAnd morality does not permit meTo be selfish and self-centred,This is the lesson of humanity I have learnt from.

And for them,Why did they suffer the people,Just for the leaders and erratic decisionsWithout thinking about the midnight childrenMaking a tryst with destinyJust fro to sit on chairThey pushed India to an unknown future,Children, widows, men and womenTo be ill-fated hapless people,Doomed to die as poor destituteAnd to be killed, tortured and thrown out,Such a…

I mean the pseudo-poets,I just mean to ask,Whom has God not given talent,One shows itWhile the other not?Do the flowers not bloom in the forest track,Bloom and fade away,Are they less than in any wayRather they are more beautifulThan those of the rhymes of the proud writers?Indian English poetry is in realityPoetasters’ poetry,Those who are…

Krishna Krishna,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama Rama,Krishna Krishna,The song I sing,Sing,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama Rama,Krishna Krishna,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama Rama,Krishna Krishna,The song, song, sing I,Sing I,Hare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama Rama, Krishna KrishnaWith so much love,Love and devotion,Losing, losing inHare Rama, hare Krishna,Rama Rama, Krishna Krishna,Losing, losing,Submerging inRama and Krishna, Krishna and Rama,Krishna and Rama, Ram and…

Having betrayed her,Have you betrayed you yourself!Betray her not!

The mad, mad peopleMad afterMaddening the whole world?Lo, what do I see,Hamlet’s smaller brother Indian Paglet too a poet,Writing verses on the sandsAnd on the walls with a charcoal!The mad, mad peopleMadly afterMaddening the whole world.Oh, a world peopled by Hamlets and Paglets,English Hamlets and Indian Madlets!

Talk I, sketch IThe portrait of that PresidentWho was more humanAnd republican.A karmayogiHe delivered and worked,Abolished slavery,Worked for the American unionBridging the North and the South.

And sharing,What will they do,I mean they,The three bosses,Mr.Marxist., Mr.Leninist and Mr.Maoist?First, I thought of averting the gaze from,Secondly, I thought of hiding,As after the coming of the dacoitsAnd their strange midnightly knock,People try to cry from the rooftopOr try to lie in ambushed,Underneath a cotOr by the door plankOr burying deep into the paddiesLying…

Said it to me to ask the timeAnd the time said to me to ask perseveranceTo tell about the test of the difficult sadhna.

Meditating in perfect silenceMaintainingThe art of livingWith life styleSound in body, sound in mind.

Why is it American?The poetry of the settlers is not,Colonists as nativists and dwellers,The poetry of the Americas.Poetry poetry,British not, English not,But American poetry, took time in recognition.

I too swayed,Swayed and dancedTo the beatsOf traditionalDrum music.Jhumur,Jhumur songAs such the rhythm,BeatThat it making you dance,Compelling youTo shakeThe feet.

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?

In making,An autocrat,Let him take the reins from,Sit on chair,The chameleon witll show the colour.To crush down democratic movementsWill be the chief priority of his,To trample down beneath,To rear politics from the grassroots level,Doing it all in communistic camaraderie and bonhomie,Tring to oblige peopleEating, drinking, sleeping and living together with,Standing by in the times of…