Terrorist,

Centuries and centuries ago,The place I am standing upon?Is the earth a burial and a burning groundAs the place I am standing uponThere burnt a body long and long ago?Which but know I not, which but see I not,Into the deadland live I,Standing on a plot and piece of landWhere my house is,There too had…

By the photograph.Tear drops welling into the eyesAnd falling from,Trickling down the cheeksAnd I going.Bye,Good bye, bye!

Goodbye to Miss Pushpa T.S.,None but he is giving herA farewell party not,A goodbye partyKeeping us in the darkOne who is a foreign returneeWishing her a nice journeyTo the one moving to foreignHimself a Jew without the guts ofRevealing his heart to herA Gujarati girl.

Island sceneryFrom the land’s end.

Just think before saying, what are youAnd say to simplyAs my love your love,Your love my love.

Into their lapSittingAnd enjoyingParental affection and sympathyAnd closeness.

Stay it hereNor will you,Only the values,Values will stayIt here,Values,Values,Human values,Neither youNor I will,but values,Values,Human values.

And what do you like to play withThe piano or the drums?Perhaps the African drumsMaking the panthers flee,Fishes and animalsAnd the ghosts and spirits dance.With the beats and dancesOf your fellow people,Dancing and singing in the forests,Feeling joy of Nature, pristine world.Whom will it not charm the hamlet homes,The hills, vales and woods,The rivers and…

With a pointed muzzleAnd a typical tailPassing through the bushesSaw I all of a suddencrossing over the road,The mongoose,Wild mongoose.

Tik Tiok villain,All new stars,New entriesOf Bollywood not,Local starsWent globalGoingIn suit, boot and jeansOverpowdered, overcreamedAnd the scents sprayed overGoing,Going and people runningFor covers,Photos,Selfies,Mainly the loafersAnd the common public too,stars going,Film stars of Bombay not,But Tik Tok, Tik Tok starsWaving the hands at,Shaking hands, greeting peopleAnd friendsAs new film stars,Native,Deshi theatrical perosnae.

As Indian EnglishAnd if it is, say you,Where is it spoken,Whose mother tongue is it,Who an EnglishmanIn IndiaAnd even if one isWill turn dark-skinnedAfter living over the yearsIn utter disgustFacing heat and dust,Will have to resort toVyom Bhole ShankarAfger smoking ion ganjaFrom chilumLike the mendicant?

The modern poets,Modern Indian English poets of IndiaAs the materials had been scantyAnd information not availableAnd the poets were evolving rater thanWhat we see it today.What to write, ho to writeIn the absence of the critic and critical canons,Some biographical information,Non-availability of self-published books,How to lengthen the meaningHad been the initial stage problemsConfronting the readersAnd…