With a cigar held in between the fingers,

The same struggler.

From Bihar’s ArrahThe husband of A Muslim ladyTaking to Indo-Pak bonhomie,Traversing and transcending the barriers,Hurdles and hazardsThat come in betweenAnd block the pathsOf intra-exchanges.

Experimenter in verse, the modern poetConsummate artist and technical craftsmanCatching the rhythm of speech, the rhythm of life,The city heartthrob and life space,The pace and stride of movement,Steps taken fast, hurried and swift,A life technical and mechanicalTelling of heartbeat and pulsationIn factories and malls,Artificial, coloured, dyed and browned!But the age one of dismay and bewilderment,Despair,…

The fisherman working all daylong,From early in the morning,Casting nets,Catching fishAnd putting into the weal.Dalit poetry,Found I in the cobbler’s home,Working from dawn to dusk,Doing the leather workAt the city centreOr the town squareBy the footpathOr on the platform,Polishing the boots.Dalit poetry,Found I in viewing the gipsy girls,Ill-clad and ill-clothed,Asking for almsInto the train bogies,Holding…

They are coming, coming!LordWho, who?Who are coming, coming, my son?SpectatorThey, they are coming,They are coming, Sire!LordWho, who, my son,Who, who are they, who are they coming?SpectatorThey are, they are, Sire, the Talibans,The Talibans hurly-burly people!LordWho, who, my son,Who, who are they coming, my son?SpectatorThe Talibans, the Talibans are,The hurly-burly turbaned and in kurta and pyjamas…

Had you beenThatDestroyed youA university,How uneducated and illiterate,Uncultured and uncivilizedThatYou a university?Uncouth and shoddyBakhtiyarThatYou Vikramshila,Vikramshila University,The ancient citadelOf learningDrawing studentsFrom farIf you had not beenEducated enoughTo take into?