You wouldn’t discuss me because my suffering

believe that such a one as this walkedthe earth in flesh and blood.’—Albert EinsteinWho? Who? Who?Mahatma. Sorry no.Truth. Non-violence.Stop it. Enough taboo.That trash is long overdue.You need a thorough review.Your tax-free salt stimulated our woundsWe gonna sue you, the Congress shoe.Gone half-cuckoo, you called us names,You dubbed us pariahs—’Harijans’goody-goody guys of a bigot godRam Ram…

And dusty greyThe sky begins to blush.Some sleepy careless charm welcomesDaybreak.Even SongAzureAnd pink gold huesThe smug sky at twilightA final flush of fulfilmentNight falls.

And you are crying again.Misery is (you always believe) the only genuineEmotion and sadness, the way of the real world.She wouldn’t have any of it.Sage in the cubicle, healer of sorts.Three years your junior. She makes soul-talkSound as prosaic as aeronautical engineering.At the end,Her warning:‘Stop this right now.’What will you say of your feelingLiving with…

Of my people – father’s father’s mother’sMother, dark lush hair caressing her anklesSometimes, sweeping earth, deep-honey skin,Amber eyes – not beauty alone they say – sheMarried a man who murdered thirteen men and oneLonely summer afternoon her rice-white teeth toreThrough layers of khaki, and golden white skin to spill theBloodied guts of a British soldier…

So quickly. . . In telecastmiracles that occurred fromMichigan to Manila to MadrasWhether He was in plastic, ceramic,Fire-burnt clay or stiff black stoneThe Elephant-Headed, the Pot-Bellied,The Remover of Obstacles, Ganesha,The God had his fill as he suckedThe spoonfuls of creamy milk. . .I am not willing to listen toCapillary Action RationalismOr any scientific explorations. ….

a mere silvery slice against fluffy translucent sky.And the remains of your school where you spent your twelvelongest years and lived through everything.And the bus-stand you had to draw for your art-class in yellowochre or asphalt grey and the emptiness that now occupies theplace where a tiny café once stood.And the tree where they fed…