To extract out of,
To burn, set on fire,
Ablaze,
To char the things,
Destroy and loot
And break and take away with
The protesters not,
But looters,
Hooligans,
Thugs not, great thugs,
The nonsense protesters,
The civil rights fellows not
But the rowdy,
Rowdy and unruly elements.
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The snake-charmer,
Playing the been,Wooden been musicAnd the snakes,SnakesVenomous snakesDancing,DancingTo the tune of,Melodies breaking,BreakingAnd engulfingThe area.And the cobras,CobrasHooded and hissingStanding,Standing and swaying,Swaying to the tune of,Tune of the been musicMelodious and haunting,The cobras,Whitish, Blackish and greyishVenomous and fatal.
Your smiles, I could not, could not portray,
I would have,Had I artistic excellence in meI could have.Had I been a photographer,Would have,Would have snapped the photos,But no photographer am I,Nor am I with the camera.Your smiles cutting deep and deep into,Your smiles sweet and cutting,The lines figuring upon as impressionsAnd vanishing,May be it I shall not be able to snap again such…
When it had been abloom,
Tempted by her attractive attire and mien,You felt the infatuation for her,Got attracted toWith an earnest earning of your ownAnd loved and caressed you,Finally to desert and dump herWhen your lust was complete.
This is India
Bogus and blunt men,Those who had not to be Ph.D. guides areAnd those who had to beAre not.My expertise is lying uselessThough they are using in my papersOn Jayanta Mahapatra, Keki N.Daruwalla,Contemporary Indian English poetryAnd D.H.Lawrence,But I am yet notA Ph.D. expert,An external examiner of the thesis.
I want to sketch
Of hers.A huge photographOf hersOvershadowing.And I walking downThe streetUnder the shadow of.Overlooking usAnd I going by,Passingthrough.I thinking about,FeelingAnd going.Nirbhaya,Fearless, without fear,Why to fear!O distressed soul,Why to look morbid,Death cannot kill you!