2012

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang but a whimper. - T.S.Eliot

Even the bleak
prophecies of the end
don't alter us for better
life goes on
as we play cruel jokes
on love
and everything
traditional

the soulessness
of human relationships
covered by the bedazzling
festive lighting
party noise
killing the small
little voice inside us.

now we do
what we do best
make online causes
and sell even
impending death

the apocalypse
is already inside us
we are merely
waiting to give it a date.

BARTENDER

Go make me a drink
as bitter as memory
as pungent as hurt
as smooth as fantasy
and as intoxicating as love !

Only you have one
for every taste -
Bartender life ,
find it an exotic name
fill it in a modest glass
but please,
Go make me a drink !

Soul Cauliflower

soul cauliflower
dissected on
the chopping board
of love

there it is
the once wriggly worm
of some sin
a dirty secret
dead now
so not there
but there still

ruining the
perfect purity
of whatever it touched

the puerile white,
like a bride's veil
now abhorred
like a shroud.

THE WITCH-HUNT

Accuse,accuse,accuse
stone the devil
let us bury her deep
in the rubble of our sinlessness

She can allure the good men
curse and kill your children
steal away your riches
she is sin incarnate !

lets smile victoriously together
at defeating the potential evil
whatever doesn't fit our norm
must be wicked !

A witch-hunt is a search for witches or evidence of witchcraft, often involving moral panic, mass hysteria and lynching, but in historical instances also legally sanctioned and involving official witchcraft trials.In India, labeling a woman as a witch is a common ploy to grab land, settle scores or even to punish her for turning down sexual advances. In a majority of the cases, it is difficult for the accused woman to reach out for help and she is forced to either abandon her home and family or driven to commit suicide.

PRIYAMVADA- 3

You were the
subtle sudden flutter
of an anticipated joy

when I first felt you

blurry-eyed
when my shaking hands
held you for the first time
I was all pulp inside

Time melted
and everything that was
or could ever be
became you

Today I see you
a warm,happy kid
at another milestone

I am thankful
that you chose me !

From one poet to another......

A word is dead
When it is said,
      Some say,
I say it just
Begins to live
      That day.

      - Emily Dickinson (December 10,1830- 1886)

DECEMBER

The reluctant rain
like the jilted lover
scared of revealing
too much too soon

The furious ligtening
like an old spark
there and yet not there,
sometimes only sound
ocassionally only light

Dear December
with companions so weird
it must be a tough
to always be the last
full of closures
and pending pain

mere memories
of spring
to warm the heart !

RELIGION

Several vague perceptions
each coloured
in its own prejudice
held dear as
our history versus theirs

Brick and mortar
soaked in human blood
amassed to make
the figmental gateway
to an unseen heaven
while the living dread
the gods they worship
and kill those who
worship another god

fabricate a shrine
preaching bloodshed
invent a fanatic God
who endorses violence
annihilate that weakness
called forgiveness
demolish every evidence of
tolerance,love or philanthropy

In a new fierce,
conscienceless
brutal religion
let no Ayodhya
ever hurt again !


The Ayodhya dispute is a political, historical and socio-religious debate in India, centred on a plot of land in the city of Ayodhya, located in Faizabad district, Uttar Pradesh . The main issues revolve around access to a site traditionally regarded as the birthplace of the Hindu god Rama, the history and location of the Babri Mosque at the site, and whether a previous Hindu temple was demolished or modified to create the mosque.
The Babri Mosque was destroyed by hardline Hindu activists during a political rally which turned into a riot on December 6, 1992.Hundreds of people were killed in the riots following the demolition.

Bhopal - 27

The planet beneath us
has marched on
drowning covertly
27 years in its
collective consciousness,
but for Bhopal that night
never ended.

the lethal veil of smoke
blinded reason and feeling,,,
the foul smell of
impending death
dancing naked
in every corner
still fills the
distorted nostrils

the muffled cries of
the unborn,almost humans
unheard,unacknowledged
the dead only numbers
the living only statistics

the cameras reappear
the headlines return
for the 'anniversary'
but the pain stays,
the rotten lungs
spit up globs of misery,
there is only a stink now
of indifference

The civilised world
doesn't tolerate
a politician slapped
or a businessman jailed

the armchair activists
only avoid looking
at an ugly haggard
called suffering

please tell them
that it is not fiction
an experiment gone wrong
the city of lakes
is a multitude of tragedies !

The Bhopal Gas Tragedy,considered one of the world's worst industrial catastrophes,occurred on the night of December 2–3, 1984 at the Union Carbide India Limited (UCIL) pesticide plant in Bhopal, Madhya Pradesh, India. A leak of methyl isocyanate gas and other chemicals from the plant resulted in the exposure of thousands of people.The initial effects of exposure were coughing, vomiting, severe eye irritation and a feeling of suffocation. Thousands of people had succumbed by the morning hours. There were mass funerals and mass cremations as well as disposal of bodies in the Narmada river. The stillbirth rate increased by up to 300% and neonatal mortality rate by 200%.It is estimated 100,000 to 200,000 people have permanent injuries. Reported symptoms are eye problems, respiratory difficulties, immune and neurological disorders, cardiac failure secondary to lung injury, female reproductive difficulties and birth defects among children born to affected women.The contamination and suffering continues. 

30TH NOVEMBER

Indigent hands collecting

shards discarded

from other lives

to make a bonfire

Wafting aroma of

peanuts warming

from the heat of a

mud pot of 

simmering coals

Grandmother evening

ambling along

hiding the naughty sun

as he runs snubbed 

from cloud to cloud

The warm rivers of

human lives

flowing eagerly on the roads

back towards their sources

Homes preparing

hot meals,warm couches

and fireplaces of love

anticipating the cold hands

arriving soon

Its the terminal dusk

of my sweet November 

till tireless time

runs another full course

of a year !