Locked into place.
Orwell’s boot on our face.
The human tragedy.
The human disgrace.
We slept with the enemy;
accepted his embrace.
“Aren’t things better now?”
they say; and it can’t be denied–
some things are better.
But is the difference so wide?
“Isn’t it enough, what I do for you?
Do I have to be perfect, too?”
No one is perfect. And I have gratitude.
But I’m waiting, still waiting
for one thing from you:
Admit what’s been done,
by your kind (and yes, you)
Don’t pretend to be blind.
Admit what we gave.
And what you received.
Admit what you took.
And how we weren’t believed.
When you bear this witness,
When you testify
We’ll be friends forever,
You and I.

(a poem in Senryus)

They say that you should
never follow whisky with
beer - but my new rhyme

is - never follow
several martinis with
two more martinis

Ladies, please take my
advice, you can’t focus your
eyes in the morning

When your roommates rude
little sister runs the loud
vacuum around noon

Who gets up before
noon in the summer? It’s not
right, if you ask me.

“Mom told me to?” That’s
an excuse reminiscent
of old Nuremberg

I have feels for her
as encumbered as she is
by parental yoke.
.
.
A song for this (please play it low):
Hangovers with You by Big B & ***** Heads Rock [E]

Bad news come for evil yet rules
And more evil yet cloaked until
In triumph in all the world
In the news from its knees rises

The Devil, ceases its pretence
To pray; And all barely sheep-cloaked
evil bared, and with whip commands
As I knelt now bow before me

All eyes in heavens and all earth
Will see that you in your free will
In your calculated choices
Choose Evil and reject the King

And they the exiles in their homes
The aliens from Eden on Earth
Aggrieved beyond bearable grief
Shall see judgements and wondrous grace

The pamphlets are blank,

that is their message, surely --


it's commonly known.

India is our country
And we are told
It's a great country
However, I beg to differ
Rather, we are sold
The idea of an utopian nation
A country with a myriad variety of cultures
Races, religions and languages
United by a common feeling of brotherhood
However, look beneath the hood
And the idea implodes spectacularly
Crumbling in a heap
Instead, emergeth a divide so deep
That it can be bested not
Even by the mighty Pacific Ocean
Truth be told, we are but a Hindu nation
In all but name
Instead, we put the blame
For all our evils
On the British, one day
And the Mughals, the very next day
While more and more blood spills
In the name of religion and caste
How long will this last?

India is our country
And as per the Constitution
All Indians are our brothers and sisters
However, if you use your imagination
Understand, you will
That this is just a facade
Designed to protect our international image
As you turn page after page
Of our so-called glorious history
Emergeth the true picture
A land comprising thousands of castes
Fighting each other since the beginning of time
Something that would put to shame
Even the fickle-minded Romans
During the reign of Julius Caesar
We Indians are indeed pathetic humans
Falling like nine pins
At the slightest hint of pressure
While boasting about past wins
That no longer matter

India is our country
And a time there was
When, a proud Indian I was
However, passed have light years, since then
Oppressed, have been our women
More so, those who are underprivileged
Brahmins, were the rapists of Bilkis Bano
And hence, did they go unpunished
Meanwhile, ***** by the Indian Army
Are the women of Kashmir and the North Eastern states
For which, not a single mainstream feminist bothers to show even the slightest sign of empathy
Something that truly makes my blood boil
Even as hundreds of wrongdoers get bail
Because, our justice system is an epic fail
On the other hand, you have innocent people
Languishing in jail for ages
Because nobody bothers to turn the pages
Of the Constitution of India

Yes, India is our country indeed
But patriots we are, no longer
Because, ultimately, humanity is stronger
A field where India can never take the lead
Yes, Indians we are
However, humans we are first

The words keep whining

in my head, they're complaining --


their imposed silence.

shadows entangled so it happens
the oppressor and the oppressed
such an intimacy of pain terror and shame
in the quietness of the right hand the left hand
surrender to the cruelty of an exchange
to be or not to be delusional
this is a question
reality just an approximation of a terrifying
mystery without meaning

a beat of a heart alone in the dark
we have many songs but still little understanding
about the growing shadow lurking in the bright light

Just take a good look at me;
My frame is attractive!
It does the unsated
appetite of the chauvinist
fuel.
My curves and your fantasies
are mutually inclusive!
Without them, dreams
are truncated.
But I am an *******
symbol.
The self opinionated chauvinist
designs me in his sub-conscious
to serve and be utterly subservient.
I am incarcerated as a chef,
and timeless baby sitter.
A baby machine for a
patriarchal dynasty.
My education is a threat to chauvinist ego.
My ignorance hones his misogynist confidence,
whilst my erudite head
retards his self esteem and worth.
The illiterate ******* symbol is his
ideal and virtuous woman.
The smarter and more professional
is the age-old Jezebel.
My chastity and virginity
are twin virtues of a
mutilated genitalia.
My restrained *** urges are
designed for his unrestrained
proclivities and gratification.
I must be restrained,
for him to be unrestrained,
because, share him I must
with two or three others of
my kind.
But take another good look at me,
and see a versatile womb-man!
Translate each prejudice of yours'
and see my remarkable antonyms.