Images, memories, reflections,
Pictures, recollections,
Images and reminiscences.
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Dalit poetry
By the Dalits,For the Dalits.A matter of the Dalits,Let them.
With Christ
I goingCrossingAnd seeking redemption,Confessing my sinThat committed IKnowingly or unknowingly.
The Sardarji, the great Sardarji talk I, the literature of his,
Turbaned and dyed,Looking youngish-youngish, romantic-romantic,A novelist, a short story and an essayist,A columnist, a historian,A journalist, an editorAnd above all a talker is our Khushwant Singh,The man and the writer we seek to know.Born at Hadali village under Khushab Distt., Sargodha, Punjab on 2 Feb.1915,In the then time British India,Educated at Govt. College, Lahore and…
Do you love me? Do you love me?
Do you loe me, love me?What is it in your love specialThat you saying, love me, love me,Do you love me? , ‘Said she the girl teasingly.Again, again, said he,‘Do you love me, do you love me? ‘‘O, what is it kept in, do you love me, love me,How long will you keep saying?I love…
Kabirdas weaving from the handloom
Which Gandhi wheeled and sangThe songs of Rama zestfullyWhich Tagore too but without wheeling it.
A psychology reader,
Olga mythicizesWith her Polish stockThe fiction of the mindRooting from dark consciousness.The journeys man takes,The travels taking to the pastAnd the past to the presentRevelries into time.