What have we for them,Are they free today, are they independent,Can they earn a livelihood,I think and think?What there in my pay bands and pay packets,Salaries and paymentsIf they remain hungry and unfed,If they keep dying?
Of victims,Rape victimsTo be raped and dumped,Legally trapped,Not to be treatedPsychologically,Mentally and spirituallyAnd in a holistic way?
So nervous had been IOn seeing the picture of Mao Zedong that nightMy boss, your boss, yes bossMy BossI salute you, sir, salute youSo disturbed had I beenAt my first meeting with you,Meeting you for the first time, sireA Red from the Red FortMarching with the Red BrigadeAnd the Red BandsAnd the Comrades and Cadres…
The clown and the fool said to me,How silly is it to ask about these!
Plucking the wires unawaresAnd the sounds cackling.Bob DylanWith the guitarAn image,A portrait of an artiste.
Taking me back to my village home,The harvest festivity of the countryOffering of new things to the household deity first,A trend and traditionWith do’s and dont’sWhich we the townsmen are forgettingThe conventional rulesFor customs and rituals.