Think!
In the Past, under clear sky, any could walk
all over Bharat, though an Indian or not so.
The notion of a nation merging petty kingdoms
dimmed the vision of the people of tolerance.
Selfish kings and selfish landlords together
severed India proclaiming "save India", alas!
     In the post independent India, I was born,
walked freely even in the starry night, till 1970s,
enjoyed outing, slept in lodges, snored under trees.
Then came the Emergency, amidst it, against people;
politicians exploited communal thoughts, Delhi burnt,
for votes; created vote banks; nothing learnt from riots;
no merging, but diverging forces hurled us, viciously
forced us to riots-in Gujarat, Assam, Bombay;
panic people run helter -skelter, in Delhi, elsewhere,
in Pune, Bangalore, Poovar or Marad, no exemption.
How lucky were Adi Sankara and Swami Vivekenanda!
The former founded four Mutts at the pulse-points
of Bharat- the latter roamed not in Rome but in India
(the land of saints, temples, home of gods and godly men)
instilling the spirit of nationalism and social reformation.
    But…while dollars roll over the sovereignty of rupees,
as a ****, with drooping eyes among nations -a land
de jure integrated and de facto dissipated and dejected
by linguistic, fiscal and parochial aspirations strutting us on-
we stand.. Who cares? Sitting around the dying culture  
all Jackals, devour and howl as vultures hover around-I shudder
to move along the road, freely breathe; as espionage, tolls
identification cards, to the satisfaction of the jackals,
that create hurdles on my way, materially, spiritually; and
bribe legislature, corrupt executive,  and blur judiciary,
****** growth and progress -even a lively move of nerves.
Independence led us to dependence to MNCs , in fact
from East India Company the baton went to British kings
and Queens; to lobbies of MNCs later it glided wasting
the blood of revolutionary freedom fighters, hurting them.
The Red Fort became the fort for the corrupted blabbers
who roar by constitution breaking the constitution of the polity.
     I don't dream of Lord Krishna dancing on the hood
of Kaliya on the banks of the Kalindi waters-polluted.
How nice to recall the glory of the past with love and toleration
that assimilated all thoughts of human beings in the world
and flowed  for ages through the canopy beside my cave,
than to shudder at every knock, and to brood in my flat gasping!
……………………………………………………………………
Note:1.Gujarat , Assam, Bombai(Mumbai), Pune, Bangalore, Poovar or Marad, :  these are places where riots or blasts occurred in India
Adi Sankara and Swami Vivekenanda!:two sanyasins(monks) of India the Former proponent of Advaita Vedanta Philosopy and the latter preached it disciple of Sri Ramakrishna  and founder of Ramakrishna Mission in Kolkota, India.
four Mutts: the mutts(Seminaries) established by Adi Sankara in Badarinath in the North , Puri in the East. Dwaraka in the West and Sringeri in the South of India to propagate the Vedic philosophy. It also proves the Undivided Indian concept the ancients had .
MNCs:Multi-National Corporations.
Kaliya on the banks of the Kalindi: A very venomous snake representing Power and torture.Lord Krishna danced on the hoods of it and killed it as per the mythology. Kalindi is River Yamuna in India that divides Delhi in to two.

Freedom to Think!
In the Past, under clear sky, any could walk
all over Bharat, though an Indian or not so.
The notion of a nation merging petty kingdoms
dimmed the vision of the people of tolerance.
Selfish kings and selfish landlords together
severed India proclaiming “save India”, alas!
     In the post independent India, I was born,
walked freely even in the starry night, till 1970s,
enjoyed outing, slept in lodges, snored under trees.
Then came the Emergency, amidst it ,against people;
politicians exploited communal thoughts, Delhi burnt,
for votes; created vote banks; nothing learnt from riots;
no merging, but diverging forces hurled us, viciously          
forced us to riots-in Gujarat ,Assam, Bombay;
panic people run helter -skelter, in Delhi, elsewhere,
in Pune,Bangalore ,Poovar or Marad ,no exemption.
How lucky were Adi Sankara and Swami Vivekenanda!
The former founded four Mutts at the pulse-points
of Bharat- the latter roamed not in Rome but in India
(the land of saints, temples, home of gods and godly men)
instilling the spirit of nationalism and social reformation.
    But…while dollars roll over the sovereignty of rupees,
as a **** ,with drooping eyes among nations -a land
de jure integrated and de facto dissipated and dejected
by linguistic ,fiscal and parochial aspirations strutting us on-
we stand.. Who cares? Sitting around the dying culture
all Jackals, devour and howl as vultures hover around-I shudder
to move along the road, freely breathe; as espionage, tolls
identification cards, to the satisfaction of the jackals,
that create hurdles on my way, materially, spiritually; and
bribe legislature, corrupt executive,  and blur judiciary,
****** growth and progress -even a lively move of nerves.
Independence led us to dependence to MNCs  ,in fact
from East India Company the baton went to British kings
and Queens; to lobbies of MNCs later it glided wasting
the blood of revolutionary freedom fighters, hurting them.
The Red Fort became the fort for the corrupted blabbers
who roar by constitution breaking the constitution of the polity.
     I don’t dream of Lord Krishna dancing on the hood
of Kaliya on the banks of the Kalindi waters-polluted.
How nice to recall the glory of the past with love and toleration
that assimilated all thoughts of human beings in the world
and flowed  for ages through the canopy beside my cave ,
than to shudder at every knock, and to brood in my flat gasping!
……………………………………………………………………

In the Past, under clear sky, any could walk
all over Bharat, though an Indian or not so.
The notion of a nation merging petty kingdoms
dimmed the vision of the people of tolerance.
Selfish kings and selfish landlords together
severed India proclaiming “save India”, alas!
     In the post independent India, I was born,
walked freely even in the starry night, till 1970s,
enjoyed outing, slept in lodges, snored under trees.
Then came the Emergency, amidst it ,against people;
politicians exploited communal thoughts, Delhi burnt,
for votes; created vote banks; nothing learnt from riots;
no merging, but diverging forces hurled us, viciously
forced us to riots-in Gujarat ,Assam, Bombay;
panic people run helter -skelter, in Delhi, elsewhere,
in Pune,Bangalore ,Poovar or Marad ,no exemption.
How lucky were Adi Sankara and Swami Vivekenanda!
The former founded four Mutts at the pulse-points
of Bharat- the latter roamed not in Rome but in India
(the land of saints, temples, home of gods and godly men)
instilling the spirit of nationalism and social reformation.
    But…while dollars roll over the sovereignty of rupees,
as a **** ,with drooping eyes among nations -a land
de jure integrated and de facto dissipated and dejected
by linguistic ,fiscal and parochial aspirations strutting us on-
we stand.. Who cares? Sitting around the dying culture  
all Jackals, devour and howl as vultures hover around-I shudder
to move along the road, freely breathe; as espionage, tolls
identification cards, to the satisfaction of the jackals,
that create hurdles on my way, materially, spiritually; and
bribe legislature, corrupt executive,  and blur judiciary,
****** growth and progress -even a lively move of nerves.
Independence led us to dependence to MNCs  ,in fact
from East India Company the baton went to British kings
and Queens; to lobbies of MNCs later it glided wasting
the blood of revolutionary freedom fighters, hurting them.
The Red Fort became the fort for the corrupted blabbers
who roar by constitution breaking the constitution of the polity.
     I don’t dream of Lord Krishna dancing on the hood
of Kaliya on the banks of the Kalindi waters-polluted.
How nice to recall the glory of the past with love and toleration
that assimilated all thoughts of human beings in the world
and flowed  for ages through the canopy beside my cave ,
than to shudder at every knock, and to brood in my flat gasping!
…………………………………………………………………….

one undead sed to one too undead: "id **** for a romancer whos a necromancer."
    Well, abracadabra with just an ounce of my magic
i produce half a cadavre and then the other half grab it and shake it until it blabbers:
"well im awake but id rather be underground with dead matter."
and though ive never been sadder i had to grab her and stab her a thousand times in such patterns
that all was left were mere tatters, talk about beaten and battered as all the pieces were scattered
(i made em smaller and flatter til they looked good so i blabbered):
                                              "you look amazing"- "im flattered"
she sed but that didnt matter. im just a ****** whos madder than Hell oh well whats it matter
the feelings of a mad hatter madder than other mad hatters collaboratively dont matter
in fact the maddest just happens to have had all his dreams shattered.
evacuate bowels and bladder. souls eaten, demons get fatter, eternal state of dead palar,
dying in Hell, almost had her. *******.

Blah blah blah
Dollars and deadlines

I here them blabbing
About it at Starbucks

Some professors here

Supply chain management
Blah blah blah

CPA
Accounting

His first stand out

He sits in the front row
"Here is someone that wants to learn"

Blah blah blah

No plans here
To work
Or get any more degrees

Just walk around in gardens
Not motivated at all

Lol

The banks....
Blah blah
stay and go

We do a pretty good job of....
Blah blah
It's a good place to work, etc

This is their first or second real job...

Blah blah

Not a lot of new products
On the credit side

Blah blah

Rain, I adore
Pour in measure
Thrills of the
Umbrella strolls
Without one
Down comes
Pulsating, a drop.

The first showers
Always dear
Give fever
Escalating mercury
In the thermometer
Kindles body fire
When fever chills
At the pores
Friendship scorches
Unabated unable
To subside.

All the guests gone
A teardrop knocks
At the window pane
On the bed of blisters
The half-conscious
In delirium blabbers
'Rain rain'.

Splits open, the sky
Trembles the Earth
The silver ornament
At the waist slackens
In an ecstatic
Electric confluence.

The chest-close hugging
Mercy of the sky
The wind which
Carried you afar
The sunshine colours
And pretty curves
Of the rainbow
Not with you now
But give me
The earthly odour
Of your coming
Give me the greenery
Of the fresh spring
On the paths, you
Created new
Give me those
Fallen flowers
Of the muddy track.

Forget the sky, the pride
Penetrate my soil, the soul
My fever will be with you
Which carries my breath
The warmth of my body
From that will sprout
Panikkoorkka, the herb.

Perplexed, perplexed!
Bewildered by ***.
My souls dazed; my hearts annexed.

Digress, Digress.  
Alluding to brooding.
My thoughts eluding, the devils colluding  

Oh tonto, oh tonto!
Amou ha huido, Oscuridad se ha apoderado.
Yo soy el fuego, infierno es mi paraiso.

The stakes of civilization burn mundane flares fighting wars with HAZ-MAT suits. The nonsense blabbers death on the rotting flesh of surreal zombies. Late distillations throw parties--singing songs to dummy suicides, martini holsters in bubonic grief. Stupid people do smart things in this 24601 world. Frost penalization claims ghosts as lost lovers. Stupid people make catacombs from burning villages in carbon sockets.

Hello
My mind blabbers on and I don’t know how to shut it up
And thats fine
Because something about it makes me feel good
What could it be
that all humans love to feel pain and suffrage
As you can tell my mind blabbers on
But don’t drain yourself
On simple thoughts
When thought through the mind of a silly human
But even now i wish to see the universe
With my simple eyes
But could I ever really understand the complexity
The raw beauty
When sought out through the mind of a silly human
As you can tell my mind blabbers on and on with no narrative
But with simple thought
Could you see the beauty of this universe

I told myself:

" I need to make this man a poem. "

So here I am, reminiscing an ordinary day. . .

I was one of those,
Who do not care:
University political parties, campaigns
And all the blabbers they make.
Scripted promises turned
Public speaking competitions,
And yeah, i t   i s   h e l l !
But that day I heard a voice so deep,
E  c  h  o  i  n g   in space,
pounding through my brain. .
One of the clearest voices
I've ever heard, there he is
Standing for campaign.
And my wrong, he's full of vision
and selfless cause, giving my belief
a  s p e c  i al   e x cl u si o n.

A year has passed, with ordinary days
Lurking by. .

He transferred in our block,
From there I thought:

" I would want to know
              this person more. ."

There was no love, I'm sure.
But there is a jolt of mystery
On his face I'd die to solve.
I exerted  n o   e f f o r t,
but my curiosity is pulling strings,
I got to know him better.

One of the most well-rounded person
I've ever known,
Oozing with confidence
In everything he do.
His  ph il o so p h i e s
deserves a trophy too!
He is someone that
I would want to be
If I were a man, that I am sure!

We competed in a class debate, I won.
And there I thought,
That my achievement is worth
a  no b e l   p r i c e
worth the sought.

There is no love, but there is
f or e v e r    ad m i ra t i on.
To the voice which is not
just a perfect tone,
But has the best echo that deserves
a   w o r l d   c a l l .

There is consistency,
There is substance. .
The only thing I hope for is
May his beliefs not eat him
Coz too much meaning,
Brings sadness on his face.
A face which looks like
He discovered a problem
O u t   o f    w a y s,
Like cancer on its very last stage.
His wits are too powerful,
I see it killing his happiness.

So I wish him the same things I wish for myself:

To think less of what others deem
as   n o n s e n s e .

At times winter visits early,
Spitting fragments of yesterday’s snow,
To strike an already scarred face.

Yet, at other times the curve of its finger
Interlocks with the conscience’s
As it blabbers on like an infant.

Sunshine, Birdsong;
Early morning breeze.
Quiet.
The comedown off of loud sound
that was the night before.
Psychedelic fizzles that sizzle the mind-
This I've begun to adore.
George,
offering me a warm smile & friendly breakfast-
The beginning of sound.
Midday found,
the hippies begun to emerge.
A surge of smoke sent up into the sky.
Oh my,
So merry that I could
Party with the Pranksters.
The Danksters,
the dabbers,
the peace lovin' blissful blabbers.
A family of freaks
that speaks to me
And this love that I've been after.

Now they’ve done it, this is real,
Trying hard my job to steal,
Why they’d want it no-one knows,
This frenzied pack of feeding crows.

Impeach for this, Impeach for that,
A sirens’ song that just falls flat,
They little know I planned the lot,
Goading Biden to this spot.

I may be brazen but I’m not dumb,
To simple traps I don’t succumb,
A life of deals, of double talk,
I choose the prey I want to stalk.

Let them rejoice, exchange high fives,
Parade on air flaunting their knives,
While all the time I’m hard at work,
Piling dirt on that servile clerk.

Six feet deep or even more
Is how I’ll settle this one score,
And then who’s left – two ****** fools,
The one just blabbers, the other drools.

So bring it on, I wait with glee,
For all the world this show to see,
Four more years with me on top,
All their efforts one huge flop.

The brightness
of the morning sky
pierces my eyes
birds gladly chirping
in merry exultation
a distant radio blabbers
hunkering for someone's
valuable attention...

The leaves appear to me
as lovely emeralds --
a beautiful, greenish hue
the trees sway monotonously
as if compelled
in a steady dance
absentee music:
silence.

I am aware.

Who needs a perfect life?

My cluttered teak table holds more literary secrets than your splendid ones.

My moon blabbers everything to blemished eyes than you to your impeccable sun.

I feel so restless
when my priest blabbers about
life marriage and ***.
18/11/2020