Sounding and re-sounding
The damru sounding,
The trisula into the hands
And with the kamandala
The sadhaka,
Yogi,
Fakira dancing
With the rudraksha rosary
And beads embedded,
Snakes coiled around
And the matted hair.
Similar Posts
Today’s is a world of rhymers, poetastsers and petty poets,
Calling themselves poets,Small poets too not,Great poets,I mean the great poets of IndiaBut many a man have I seen,Many a scholarWho used to write beautifullyBut never called themselves poetsAs scholars they were no doubt,What does it make a differenceIf the edolence of the flowerPraised or not.
My drinker son,
Lying fallen?A house inDestruction,Things at sixes and sevens!
Rape victims,
Of victims,Rape victimsTo be raped and dumped,Legally trapped,Not to be treatedPsychologically,Mentally and spirituallyAnd in a holistic way?
Too much of catholicity
Punishing poor womankindThe poor soul and heartNot at all goodAs none of us moralistic,Not even the church men,The child is definitely holyBut to save the mother more important.To be a Catholic is not toBe fanatical and obdurate,Inhuman and un-godly,Conservative and blind to faith.
They say it there is nothing as memorable in India
Fatatlism, superstition, inaction and blind faithBut the centuries old rock-built, stone-hewn-and-chiselled templesContradict the theories, as for the temples built theyCut and pierced through and chiselledBut their names we know them not stillAnd this the tragedy of our histriography!The hills turned into the pieces of art and architectureAnd the sculptors decorating the temples,Where those architects, sculptors…
Has no work to do
PoliticsEven when he eats, talks, sleepsAs has no work to doBut politics,Politics.