GLOBAL VILLAGE

POEM

Deep and durable

friendship is a thing of past

in the sense that nowadays

deep and durable friendship has

cleared the way for

superficial and hollow friendship.

I wonder how come

deep and durable friendship has

turned superficial and hollow relationship

has come into existence

in the global village

where even distance

has shrunk so as to develop friendships.

But except for a few,

intimate friendships

have evolved into

shells where each person and

his immediate nuclear family

feel convenient and comfort inside

the shell like a tortoise.

In this fertile soil

of global village a

man or woman is always

on the move since each of them has turned

mobile every now and then.

We are all like

workers in mobile factories

and today’s friendship 

has no longevity and

a deep-rooted

friendship is a thing of the past.

With the time running fast

in the place of a friendship

another one grows.

Mobility is the hallmark of time

since the development of

information technology and

knowledge revolution

corporates compete each other

and offer lucrative remunerations

and better career prospects

for attracting efficient,

dynamic and enterprising youths

be it in our country or abroad.

With the growth and development in the

IT world and knowledge revolution

a deep-rooted relationship is ephemeral….

INDIAN FARMER

POEM

H e was a farmer.

He was an Indian farmer. 

Once up on a time

farming was lucrative to him.

And he could reap rich dividends

from farming.

That was once upon a time.

With the time flying fast life,

farming to him was

a loss making profession

he couldn’t reap rich dividends

instead it turned

out to be pain in the neck for him

with the climate playing pranks on him

like a child playing mischief on his elders,

with the government

turning away its attention from the farmers

instead extending

help to the industrialists

and businessmen.

Drought due to the

sun getting furious

for a prolonged period

floods washing away crops

money-lenders turned

protectors charging

exorbitant interests

without any corresponding

increase  of income from farming

instead declining

irrigation, electricity and fertilizers

and such other infrastructure absent

farmers couldn’t repay

the interest to money-lenders

farmers had to sell their cattle

ultimately reaching abbotairs

for cheap rates  or for nothing

the money-lenders

grabbed the properties leaving the

farmer in the lurch

he was left with no choice except

seeking salvation

by hanging, consuming poison

or jumping in front of the trains

sacrificing  himself

at the altar of those who were

supposed to turn

their saviours upsetting

the apple-cart

these are harrowing

days for the poor ones

who were

forced to catch trains

to the Maximum City,

seeking any low level of jobs or begging

for whom a roof over

their heads were a dream

the Indian farmers who

were proud of their

profession once

crawling through

the streets of the city

with begging bowls…..

DELAYS – USUAL AND UNUSUAL

POEM

Sorry for the delay.

It was not deliberate.

Such things happen sometimes.

In a city

where the streets

are broken, pot-holed

and crater filled

where the vehicles

are mushrooming day by day

without corresponding

infrastructure development

where the road accidents

are order of the day

unusual to usual delays

are part of the game.

Until a complete overhaul

of infrastructure is done

we are bound to cope up

with all obstacles and obstructions

along the way

the rhythm of life

goes awfully wrong.

The speed with which

life flies ahead

anything could happen

anytime in this ‘brave new world’.

Despite all these hazards,

no one is confined to

his/her world of loneliness

instead everyone puts up

a brave face and speeds

ahead come what may…

but longs for a

world of all facilities….. 

HALLMARK OF TIME

POEM

Like a lightning

striking a man/woman

blessing him/her

with instant salvation,

Like an earthquake

devastating a nation

without any warning

claiming thousands of lives

irrespective of rich or poor

and destroying properties

especially historic monuments,

like a gang of

terrorists in army uniforms

with deadly weapons in possession

killing innocent persons and destroying

properties by this hydra of

innumerable tentacles reaching every nook and cranny

are shot to death by the soldiers

uncertainty is the hallmark of our times.

LOST OPPORTUNITY

POEM

Enroute to the city

it was the first time

he was meeting

her after their divorce.

Time went on

like snail’s pace 

without both of them

talking to each other

though they looked

asquint every now and then

suggesting their desire to talk to each other.

As always it was he

who broke the silence.

‘After we got separated

we are meeting the

first time.

Let’s share

our days in between’- curiosity overpowered him

she kept mum occasionally

smiling to the outside

world without answering.

‘What about you? –

she looked askance at him

without shedding the mocking smile.

‘I got married last year’-

he answered hanging his head.

he couldn’t face her

for a few minutes.

‘I remain unmarried

uptill now and don’t

want to have another

marital relationship not because

I loved you so much

but because I have to

look after our children’

-she cast that smiling

glance though with pain.

 He tried to recall the

faces of their children

the two pretty blooms

and remained silent for

a few minutes.

The feeling of guilt

was something he couldn’t bear.

Until they parted

bidding goodbye

they couldn’t talk to

each other and

stepping down the train

moved in opposite directions. 

Even in their life

together they were poles apart.

He was literally weeping  on recalling

the faces of their children

and earnestly yearned for seeing

them once in a while.

To his shock he couldn’t

ask her where she and

her children were

pulling their days together.

The lost opportunity was unlikely

to return again….

which would torment him

throughout his life…. 

HIS GRANDPA

POEM

His grandpa

who is in the sunset of life

is a key for him

to open the door of

good, old, glorious days of life.

On listening to the gone days 

from his grandpa

which he is unaware of in that old world

his wonder knew no boundaries.

The verdant world around

the rivers which were full to the brim

which were crystal clear

showing the fish

pebbles slowly moving ahead with the flow

water snakes

and organisms aplenty,  

the colourful world of  

flowers  like lotus, rose,

jasmine, marigold etc etc

which could enthrall

and enchant everyone

he feels a sense of

loss to which there’s

no way to return.

The roads which were devoid of

pot-holes  and craters

both sides of which

were lined up with trees

providing shade to the passerby

he often wonders and

a sense of nostalgia overwhelms him

though he was  not

the product of those days which

his grandpa enjoys.

On spending

life in the current world,

the new generation knows not the

bygone days

who have no idea of such a world

and none to instill the knowledge

of such a glorious world

spend an entirely different life

which is no way related

to these days where

everyone is for himself/herself

where selfishness and greed rule the roost.   

THE SON

POEM

There are days of mirth

when he is with us.

How deep is our delight

no one knows except

I and his father.

His presence wipes away

or banish the gloom and

sorrow enveloping us.

Each time he brings with

him a bundle of stories

to lift our sagging spirits.

With each day nearing us,

our happiness gradually

comes down an down.

On reading our sadness

he tries to make us

happy cracking jokes

by suppressing his sullen mood.

But no, we hide his jokes and

like him we too pretend

to enjoy his jokes and mischief.

And on the day of departure

to the faraway city we try

in vain to hold our moist eyes.

The only relief being

our expectations of his next arrival

on completion of each semester.

On reaching the house

three of us make merry and our home

drowns in the sea of pleasure.

Often we shudder running down our bodies

when we ponder about the fateful day

he flies down to a foreign university abroad

to continue his higher studies.

Even now we can’t 

imagine the emptiness filling  

our minds after he departs

to his institution abroad. 

HER WORLD

POEM

She doesn’t want freedom. 

Freedom to her is a

heavy burden and threat to her.

She is safe in this cage

where she is provided with all necessities

like food, water and everything.

She knows not what is fear

since her enemies like cats, dogs

and snakes can't approach her to the cage
to prey on her

specially built for her

and suspended from above.

In a world where freedom

is a threat to every living being

which is polluted with atmosphere

acute shortage of pure water

severe dearth of victims and trees to rest

effluents pumped into the rivers

from riverside chemical factories

killing innumerable organisms

and hundreds of thousands of deaths

of innocent beings in the wars

and millions of displaced refugees

she always feels like

spending her days in paradise

from where she is able to

watch the outside world.  

IN EQUAL MEASURE

POEM

If asked which is

the golden period in my life

I don’t have an

iota of reluctance

to tell anyone that

such a period is

rare in my life.

In the recesses of my mind

the level of bitter days

far outweighs the golden days.

Compared to my days

both sweeter and bitter

there are many a humanbeing

who has not tasted the nectar

of golden fruit of

comfort, serenity and harmony or

delight in one’s life.

Golden days

throughout one’s life

are something

absent either in a

rich man’s/woman’s life or

a man/woman at the lower

strata of society in equal measure.

Wherever there are hills,

there are valleys, no doubt.

PART OF EXPLOITATION

POEM

When I was told not to

be talkative or garrulous,

I followed his words.

When I was ordered to

go out and canvas as many

customers as possible

I couldn’t follow his

words but gave me

two to three days to

canvas customers.

I, like the order on

day one, couldn’t follow

his orders under the

summer sun, on days two

and three and I returned

empty-handed.

A visibly angry

manager asked me to

get out and get lost.

I glanced at him with

pity followed by a broad smile

‘Thank you sir

you will be remembered

in the years to come

and if possible come out

from your revolving chair

and roam thru the

streets and canvas customers.

The replies will be

music to your ears……’

I stormed out of the door

with as much speed as possible

walked down the

streets and reached my house.

‘Why are you, early

today’ – father

and mother frowned at me.

‘I am not fit for begging.

Don’t ask me

anything more please.’

And  I entered my room

threw myself on the bed

with my eyes moist……

NOTWITHSTANDING….

POEM

Notwithstanding his power,

vigour and strength

we never hesitate to

take on him and 

enter into a fight with him.

Notwithstanding a thorny

rose plant we are not

afraid of plucking

the beautiful, attractive,

fragrant rose flowers.

Notwithstanding a dictator

equipped with bombs,

chemical weapons and

sophisticated weapons

the citizens never backtracks   

instead put up a brave face

and fight to the hilt these days.

A cactus plant though

is hated by many

it has its own beauty

and once in a while

it gifts us beautiful flowers

and tempts us to pluck

them even if its

thorns in all probability

hurt one with blood drops

making appearance with a slight pain

in our fingers.

Citizens across the

world often turn

cynical witnessing a

chain of blood-chilling

incidents and we

expect at any moment

we too may turn victims to the

machinations of a heartless

soulless world….. 

MAGICAL POWERS

POEM

Very often I do have the

fortune or misfortune

of watching serpentine

queues of demonstrations holding

different colours of flags shouting slogans

at the top of their voices.

In the very beginning I couldn’t

bear these demonstrations

due to the traffic jams

holding the vehicles to a standstill.

Even the footpaths are

crowded with evening-walkers getting

stranded along the path

cursing the demonstrations

and the law-enforcers for their apathy

to control the  processions.

Gradually watching the

demonstrations became my

hobby though fast flowing

time causes many a problem.

On noticing the demonstrations

one day to my surprise

and embarrassment, I did

have the fortune or misfortune

to notice that a number of

demonstrators participating

in the long serpentine

queues are people coming

from a particular area

who participate in the

different demonstrations are

one and the same.

To my wonder I mulled

the psychology behind it

and came to the conclusion

that money and liquor

posses magical powers. 

THE CAT AND MOUSE

POEM

The cats at the top of

the pyramid are growing

more and more fatter.

The lean and skinny mice

at the bottom of the pyramid

are becoming more and more

hungry and are starving to death.

The gap continues to be

wider and wide which is alarming.

The crorepathis though

less in number corner millions

and millions draining the exchequer.

The poor at the bottom

of the pyramid

wake up in the early morning

find themselves 

in a piquant situation

for scarcity of sanitation facilities 

lack of pure drinking water

with nothing over their heads

and a few spend their nights 

on the street sides

or railway platforms

wake up with fire in their bellies.

They walk along the streets

with begging bowls

pleading with each human being

coming their way

to earn something to

make both ends meet.

But with the approach

of elections each five year

the leaders of umpteen

parties across the

land approach them hanging their heads

before each poor man or

woman  and promise to

make earth a heaven

and with artificial smiles,

keeping devils inside,

pay hundreds and hundreds of rupees

and ensure their votes.

The poor take their promises for granded

approach the polling booths

on the scheduled day

stand in the queue under the blazing sun

dreaming of a spring

cast their votes and return 

with their begging bowls

stretching their hands and beg.

Forgetting their previous elections

and the promises and platitudes

by the candidates

of previous years by the poor ones

fall into the trap as always.

Each govt still

boasts about the wonderful

growth trajectory

ensconced in their air-conditioned cabins. 

HONEY OF FRIENDSHIP

POEM     

From day one

I haven’t tasted

the honey of friendship

since I arrived in this city.

Now that three years

have flown away

and still

I haven’t acclimatized

myself with my immediate surroundings.

In this city

and I feel like an

orphan left alone in a vast desert

under the  fire-spitting Sun.

But,

as someone said

with flow of time I might feel

accustomed with the

loneliness I experienced

in this city.

In the beginning

I did have a mistaken

notion that indulging

in friendships are

not that difficult

in this city

and I am mistaken.

Even in a cosmopolitan city

where I spent a long time

the number of friendships and intimacies  

were innumerable and overwhelming.

Now I know not where

they are since after 

getting separated

I don’t have any contact

with anyone.

I think they are

scattered in various corners

of the city with their families

or must have flown down abroad

to have better living conditions

for the well-being of

 all in their families in their native lands.

This is life, nothing but life…… 

MEGALOMANIA

POEM

The unveiling ceremony

of the statues (yes, statues)

of  Madam Chief Minister

was solemnized at the

auspicious  moment in the 

presence of Her

loyalists one day

followed by a grand

celebration across the State.

With the euphoria over

after one week

her statues across

the State were

reduced to rubble

by her enemies under cover of darkness.

The determined Chief Minister

within no time

ordered an enquiry 

into the episode along

with the sculpting

of her statues once again

and with the

purpose of the unfortunate

incident posted policemen 24 X 7 to obstruct

her enemies from attacking

the statues again.

The enquiry went on

a war-footing to nab the  culprits

who reduced her statues to a pile of dust.

The next election brought

her govt down and as

a prelude to open a new chapter

the new govt of her opposition party ensured

her statues be

brought down at the earliest.……

And in their place

the statues of the

new Chief Minister

be erected at the earliest

with the protection of

security 24 X 7….

THE DROUGHT SETS IN

POEM

A quick flowing

blue, transparent river is

a visual feast.

A quick flowing river

of memories is always

heartening and cheerful 

beyond words.

With the summer sets in

the flow of river slowly, slowly

flows along.

At last the drought sets in

the river gets dried up 

with the cracks and potholes

more and more visible.

One’s needling pain makes

him/her weep silently

with all living beings

fish, crabs, water-snakes and other organisms

struggle for existence

suffocate and  breathe their last.

Similar is the case

with the mankind

with land gets dried up

and the farmers are forced

to put an end to their life.

Likewise

with the flow of memories 

gradually getting slower

and slower at last

getting dried-up with

the flow of time.

The memories shrink

in this age of persisting summer

making life more and more difficult

on the surface of earth…..  

SHE SAID THAT……….

POEM

She said: 

Your acerbic words

penetrate the tender

walls of my mind

which pain me a lot.

For heaven’s sake

put an  end to your acid tongue

which would force 

me to back out of

our long friendship 

and run away from you

to an unknown place

shutting my both ears.

Otherwise as a last choice

I would be compelled

to return to my old self

and utter my acid words

in the same  coin.

Upon recalling that

sweet, glorious days

of our emotional relationship 

I can’t stoop to such

a low level like you

since I continue to love you.

If you are bent upon

by continuing choicest epithets

and attacks me which could

prompt me to back out

from of our mutual love  of yester years

I have to clear a path of my own

which would pain and

agonize you and I simultaneously.

I hope and pray to God

better sense to

prevail upon you in the short run

and begin a new chapter in our life

instead of getting estranged. 

STEEL FRAME

POEM

A civil servant is

always at the mercy

of his political masters.

Remaining subservient

to your political masters is equivalent to

'succumb' to their decision

to chain you

until he is at

the top of you and

order you to do this or that.

Merit is not at all a

criteria in the world of bureaucracy

and politics.

If and when a

civil servant shows

signs of revolt

be prepared for

a transfer to a faraway

place which is most

inconvenient to you

or suspension or dismissal as to the situation warrants.

The only consolation

being even if one is a political heavy weight  

goes out into political oblivion

after he attains superannuation

and a civil-servant

is free to heave a sigh of relief.

But, in the place of

the one who went to the wilderness

another one is enthroned

to chain a civil servant

until he reaches the retirement age. 

MOSQUITOES AND TERRORISTS

POEM

Mosquitoes are like terrorists.

Always on the look out for soft targets.

Mosquitoes draw blood from

human-beings like the 

terrorists target victimizing

the human beings by striking terror

anytime, any moment.

Once we, the human beings

were attacked

by mosquitoes by singing

thereby extending warnings

to us about their approach.

We sensed their approach and

upon listening to the music of mosquitoes

helped us ‘annihilating’ them one by one.

Nowadays, the wily

mosquitoes activate the

silencer and without

we knowing suck our blood.

With the installation of the silencer

mosquitoes enjoy feasts of human blood.

Mosquitoes and terror elements

have many things in common

and we the human beings

are always the victims.

  

DOUBLE STANDARDS

POEM

In this life, it is often said

there are highs and lows.

Likewise, it is often said,

there are highs and

lows in this world.

The developed nations 

are always on the

top of the mountains.

On the contrary 

the under-developed countries

are always on the

foot-hills of the mountains.

While the developed nations

possess the nuclear bombs

boasting that nuclear weapons are

their prerogative and are proud of it,

the under-developed nations

are not permitted

to assemble nuclear

weapons and even nuclear

power for peaceful purposes

or for manufacturing energy

even clandestinely.

Developed nations sitting

on the top of the mountains

with their eagle-eyes espy it

and are enraged over

the under-developed nation

which is banned from

assembling nuclear weapons

or for any other purposes,

the developed nations

impose crippling sanctions over

the under-developed nation

so as to suffocate it.

Without dismantling the

entire weapons in their kitty

how come the developed nations go on assembling

nuclear weapons dime a dozen and

 dictate terms for the under-developed nations?  

SLAVERY

POEM

Sometimes I feel I am

being led by the

whims and fancies of

an anonymous force.

The very thought is

repulsive and revolting to me.

I always wish

my fate is being

written by none other than myself.

That very

thought is rejuvenating

and delightful to me.

Whenever one fellow feels like

he/she is being led by an

anonymous power

he/she becomes a slave

of that anonymous power.

Slavery always erode

the will power, determination and courage

 of a man/woman.

Such an erosion

chains the mankind

and they are being chained the

rest of their life.

Remaining a slave

throughout one’s life

is equal to an animal or vegetable

which doesn’t have the

thinking facility till

it breathes its last. 

GNAWING PAIN

POEM

Imagine the agonizing

thoughts, shock and fright

of workers from abroad

when a civil war breaks

out in a nation

claiming the lives

of hundreds and thousands

of citizens fall prey 

to the incessant bombings

ground offensives

between the ruling

militia and the equally

violent opposition forces.

Imagine the state of

minds of the near and dear ones of

skilled and unskilled

workers who have flown

into the shattered

nation before the

civil war broke out

to eke out a living

for him and his family abroad.

Imagine their prayers

round the clock to

the omnipotent God, their

loving God to look

after their dear ones

trapped in the civil war hit country

and save the citizens from dangers of

the war-hit nation also

at the earliest…..

THE NEW AGE LOVE

POEM

Her Mother was a

fish out of water

the day on which

her father tied the

nuptial knot around her

mother’s neck and she had gone

to his house far away.

Though mother’s aunty

accompanied her

heart beats were

like  drumbeats  before

entering the bride groom’s room

with a glassful of sweet milk

where the man 

was anxiously waiting

for her amidst the jasmine fragrance.

After her mother

gave birth to a

daughter ie she

grew up after completing her education

and became a bank employee

she too was tied the nuptial knot

and wedding ring in her finger

she too became a bride.

Unlike her mother’s

heart beats like drum beats

the daughter ie the new bride

didn’t go emotional

and with brave steps,

self-confidence and a beaming smile

entered the room with

sweet, honeyed  milk

where her youthful bridegroom awaited her.

The man was her colleague

in the bank once and

later got a

transfer after being promoted.

Their’s was a love affair

and hence it was

the materialization of a dream

after waiting by both

for the arrival of the blessed moment.

I was thinking about

the difference between

the new age love

and the arranged

marriage of yester years

when love affairs were

comparatively rare…..

CRISIS IN AAM ADMI PARTY INTENSIFIES – KING SIZE AMBITION OF KEJRIWAL PROVES HIS UNDOING

When I read about the expulsion of Yogendra Yadav, renowned political scientist, Prashant Bhushan, famous Supreme Court lawyer, Admiral (Retd) Ramdoss, I recalled an NGO who was quoted as saying ‘Arvind Kejrival has a habit of using people and later discarding them. Similarly Anna Hazaare was only a stepping stone for Arvind Kejrival in his journey to the top’. (refer the book of Rajdeep Sardesai - 2014 The Election That Changed India).

It is quite natural that an highly ambitious Arvind Kejrival took the extreme step of throwing out a number of noted leaders from responsible positions of Aam Admi Party (AAP) to tighten his grip around the party.  

Aam Admi Party was formed by Arvind Kejrival along with Yogendra Yadav, Prashant Bhushan, Admiral(Retd) Ramdoss and Mayank Gandhi on 24-12-2012 with the intention of wiping out corruption and related evils with the ‘broom’ as election symbol.

In the run up to the election to the Delhi Assembly Mr.Kejrival and his friends remained united and engaged in door to door campaign especially the poverty-stricken masses and those hailing from the middle-classes especially lower middle class.  Indian National Congress, Bharatiya Janata Party and Aam Admi Party were the main contestants to seize power with the days nearing by, the capital city remained hot and at last the day of exercising franchise arrived.

The leaders of all three parties with thumping hearts waited for the outcome at the hustings until the votes were counted. Everything  over, Bharatiya Janata Party came first with 31 seats, Congress which was in the saddle for fifteen consecutive years under the leadership of Sheila Dixit could score only  8 seats and to everyone’s surprise the one year old Aam Admi Party came second with 28 seats. It was a hung  Assembly among the total of 70 seats. Many a political observers, intellectuals and common citizens like us looked at the Aam Admi Party and termed it as a phenomenon since it could display a sterling performance in the very first year of its existence.

In order not to allow BJP to gain power through horse-trading or something like that,  Indian National Congress with 8 seats in its kitty extended its support to AAP and thus a govt under Arvind Kejrival was elevated to power. He in his power as CM chose a few MLAs to various posts for his ministry. Aam Admi party within no time became ‘talk of the town’ and discussions, debates and writings galore with only a few nursing doubts about its future.

At the very outset, power-tariffs to each house were reduced to half and 700litres of water distributed freely to those who were suffering from acute scarcity of water bringing cheers to their lips.

Arvind Kejrival besides ambitious was a man in ‘tearing hurry’ and which proved his undoing.            

Within 49 days, he wanted to bring in a bill in the Assembly named Jan Lokpal even without ignoring the advice of his well-wishers. He stuck to his stand and introduced the bill and Indian National Congress withdrew support to his govt as they had many a skeleton in their cupboards and govt was reduced to a minority and lost its majority. He was left with no option but to quit his post and within 49 days the AAP govt collapsed.

If Mr.Kejrival was not in a hurry the picture would have been different. Later the gentleman himself apologized to the people for it. With the AAP govt collapsing like a pack of cards a number of supporters from those at the top echelons down the poor quit the party for good. They never ever believed in their wildest of dreams that the govt would fall down within such a short span of 49 days.

 As a sequel to the rule coming to an end, the President’s rule was imposed in Delhi.

After almost two years Election Commission declared election to five States including Union territory of Delhi. Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi along with his right hand man Amit Shah jumped into the political arena and began the election campaign with renewed vigour but Aam Admi Party  came out with a stunning victory in Delhi.

Aam Admi Party (AAP) bagged 67 seats out of 70 seats with BJP gaining 3 seats and Congress with a big zero.  AAP’s historic win was achieved with the collective effort of the educated young supporters including the slum dwellers.

Soon after Kejrival took the oath of office and formed Ministry with a few MLAs who were sworn in as Ministers.  Leaders like Yogendra Yadav, Adv.Prashant Bhushan, Mayank Gandhi and Admiral (Redt) Ramdoss demanded  'one man, one post' arose from leaders like Yogendra Yadav, Prashant Bhushan, and a few other esteemed leaders. The demand though legitimate and genuine was rejected by Mr.Kejrival. While holding the post of Chief Ministership he should  have quit the post of National Council Convener, otherwise take up the responsibility National council convener and resign from Chief Ministership which angered Mr.Kejrival. Rumblings in the party once again raised its head with Kejrival, Manish Sisodia and Ashuthosh on one side and Yogendra Yadav, Prashant Bhushan, Mayank Gandhi and others on the other side.

In the National Council which was exclusively called for to discuss the problem those who were supporting the Chief Minister was a majority and the other side a minority. Thus resolution was tabled and Mr.Yadav and Adv.Bharat Bhushan etc were expelled.

The party is at present sitting on a time-bomb and is likely to explode anytime soon. Mr.Kejrival’s immaturity and king-size ambitions could lead to disaster in the immediate future………       

EUPHORIA

POEM

Shattered are we

shattered are our dreams

like Chrystal glasses all around.

Mistaking him for our benevolent saviour

on assuming the saddle of the ruler

we celebrated his assumption of power

across our land

and our euphoria

refused to settle down

for a prolonged period.

And we remained drowned in

our happy days

our cheerful days

and we were

reluctant to come up from the

lake of delight.

But our calculations 

went wrong.

Our so-called ruler

began to display

his true-colours

his display of

iron-fist and fierce look 

and ruthless punishment.

Shattered are we

shattered are our dreams

like Chrystal glasses

all around…………….