To pull me down,
Down
For no fault,
Fault of mine?
The, they, Gandhi,
Gandhi,
Flee you,
Flee you, Gandhi,
They are coming,
Coming.
The are coming,
Coming
To pull you,
You down,
Topple you,
Topple you down.
Who, who, my, son?
They, they,
Gandhi.
Who, who they?
They, they the petitioners.
And for what, what?
What did you, Gandhi long ago?
Who, who,
My son,
Who, who
Are they
Coming,
My, my son?
Where the poets are but no-men, commoners,Rhymers, poetasters, versifiers,Self-styled, self-published writersOf their own rightOf this group, that group,This coterie, that coterie,This company, that company.
And turned she into a dreamgirlAnd kept me on the track all the wayAnd I too became lost in the dreams of hersLeaving aside my worksSmiling far awayAnd dreaming of her.A girl gorgeous like the red roseI had never dreamt about,So fast and beautiful, lovely and fresh,So celestial and so attractively charming!
All black-black, black and beautiful.
The statues in sculptures and artifacts,Art-models and the inspiration behind the source of reckoning,Dating back toAn age, era gone by,To the days of yore and antiquityTo look back in wonder.Shiva statues, art-models into the museums,Beaming with,Radiating from,The curators viewing in astonishment,Nataraja Shiva,Shiva as a nata, a dancer,The Lord, King of the dancers.A yogi, a fakira,…
Adil the missing person,K.D.Katrak the misjudged fellowAnd Gieve Patel’s hardly availableBut famousAnd Keki N.Daruwalla’s presenceAs for publications and awards.Keki N. Daruwalla, a police officer and that too a superintendent of policeFrom Indian Police Service,Making a way into the realms of creative poesy,Attempting to eke out a nameAnd what he saw as a police officer, he…
And think about the serene presenceSo tenderly in composureAnd compassionateThe BidhisattvaCalm and serene and gracious.
