Wednesday, January 10, 2007

continuation to SCOUNDRELS of ganges


I opened the door,
Smog has taken the throne of this murky morning
Only thing visible to my dry eyes through this summer smog is a long-long thick blanket of of smog all around,
Thick smog,thin smog,dark smog,black smog,crouching smog,choking smog,howling smog,butcherig smog,
I broke into the smoggy ravines
Rubbed my dusty eye balls stood I'
Down on the pavement, at that corner,
Yes that very corner
Stood Tughlak with a pair of eyes in dispair
But commanded his men, his children thirsty,hungry,exhausted and naked
To shape that invinsible fort, treacherous and venomous,
Sultan was exulted, He blessed them all as a client of Prophet.
They thanked him and said amien!
Really! at times
Madness has sense and sense has madness
Here stands Sultan's creation
Off the veins of pampered His own children.
On the pavements of dalal streets
Little hands alongwith stray dogs are on their diarnal duty
Both in the wastebins and heaps of waste
Plummaging to remonstrate against starvation.
Obnoxious worlds borne by Brahma are being squeezed into the bottles of rot champegne bottles and tightened with spanish corks.