Yea, the Divine Spark
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Who is he,
Who is he,The WordsworthOr KeatsOr YeatsOr LawrenceOf Odisha,Who, who is he?WordsworthAs for serenity, quietude,Silence prevailing in,Keats as for sensuousnessAnd relationship,Yeats for symbolism,Myth-makingAnd Lawrence forIntricacies of human relationships,Love, sex and sexuality?
Now the older university heads have retired them all,
Can be seen in the P.G. departmentsSrutting and walking on tip-toe.Thank you.
Azadi,
Humei azadi chahiye,Azadi chahiye!From whom,From where, gentleman,Gentlewoman,What,What do you mean by this azadi?Azadi,Azadi,Azadi from whom,From whereAnd who azad really?Who the producer,Who the director,Who the manager,Who the script writerAnd who the background music-giver?How the speeches and dialogues,How the characterizationAnd who, who the dramatic personae,The protagonists, spokesmen and mouth pieces?
Valentine’s Day,
My love is callingAnd I have to go, have to go.You in my heart,I in your heart,My Valentine letting me not stay here,I must, must.
Once upon a time the cinema halls used to be with full shows,
The matinee show, the evening show and the night showAnd when the hall used to be packedAs for the new picture,The morning show too used to beAnd the operator used to focus from the upstairsOr from the slanting topAnd the visitors used to throw coinsOn the dances,The loafers, labourers or daily visitorsNear the curtain whistling…
A bhangedi, an Indian bhangedi,
Grinding the leaves and taking the rollWith sugarAnd smiling to his fullWithout rhyme or reasonAnd his mind delving far, flying into the skiesWith the stars,Not on earth,The eyes abnormally redAnd he talking nonsense.Everything but dulled to the core,The brain not workingBut he calling it Shiva’s buti, a herbal thing.