Tuesday 13 November 2018

Shitty Nation!




There lives a man who cleans shit,

In the name of Caste, people insist. 

      Left behind in a great nation,

      In deep shit, he seeks compassion.

Call the emperor! Who gave him a clean chit?


- S

Poetry style: Limerick

Friday 9 November 2018

Boxed Existences

Boxed Existences


Ostracized by civilized hearts,
A dalit girl with dark complexion
built a house out of dark nights;
Stayed within it, day in and day out.
Oppression was a daily experience.
Humiliation, a day to day reality.

On the search for herself, people around
Offered a hundred labels, suggestions abound.
Her neighbor next door has an opinion:
That she's a girl with questionable character.
Her ex-boy friend has an 'honest' remark:
That she's a slut, playing the victim card.

Emptied bottles of wine helped;
Kept the whining away, scars remained.
Life tendered no respect;
Death promised no dignity, and so
Sleep was her daily kiss of death- often,
She slipped her way into broken slumber.

Buried between the pillow and the bed,
wanders her mind like a bird
that sits on the tree of happiness
for a moment, on the sands
of disappointment, after few seconds.
Frustration looms and sadness chokes.

As she keeps thinking them all over again:
A theater of internal conflict, inside her mind.
Who're these humans? she wants to know.
Struck by realization, she found
They're, but entrapped beings;
living in their boxed existences.

Chuckled, as she thought of it,
Repaired she, her broken self.
Despite that comeback,
The circus of civilization
never seizes to amuse! Only
that now she has the last laugh!



Saravanan

Monday 5 November 2018

Delusions of Light


Delusions of Light

No dreams, this Diwali
For my starving stomach
Has long given up
On your false promises
Of ache din and light.

Am I the poverty
You strive to eradicate?
Beat the bloody drum!
Demons are but dancing
In the delusions of light!

Flashing lanterns loom,
Eclipsing our daily gloom.
Your mad rush to progress
Had put us all to distress!

Am I the darkness,
You intend to eliminate?
Beat the bloody drum!
Demons are but dancing
In the delusions of light!

When there is no ears
Listening to our plight,
Sounds of your sparklers
Deafens our senile spirits!

Am I the anti-national,
You're hunting for?
Beat the bloody drum!
Demons are but dancing
In the delusions of light!

Woke up before the dawn,
My dad, a daily laborer.
You paid him with a pittance!
Disappointed, he returned drunk.

Are we the urban naxals,
You were snooping for?
Beat the bloody drum!
Demons are but dancing
In the delusions of light!

Doomed for generations,
We ask for our due, you offer
sweets to sickened hearts?
Land is but our body and soul - not
a Diwali gift for your corporate pals!

No dreams, this Diwali! 
No! they're not for sale.
Beat the bloody drum!
Demons are but dancing
In the delusions of light!

In Agony,
S, an urban naxal.