I walk the pavements of Chennai
With men and women yawning in my face
As if saying, now that you’ve forgotten us
Why don’t you just let us sleep
And the children sleeping over the garbage
Waking up with a shriek
As if crying, why couldn’t you lend us
Some of your dreams
What should I tell them?
Should I tell them of that fateful day
When we all won our freedom
Or of the night Nehru couldn’t sleep
Or that we haven’t slept ever since
Should I tell them
That all our dreams are now mortgaged
In the Swiss banks
And that now
I sleepwalk in eternal wakefulness
But how,
How can I tell them all this
When I know
My language is not
What they speak or understand
In this season of death
Seeing, listening, saying and hearing
All is dead.
I enjoyed reading your poem. It is very sensitive and portrays the true situation of contemporary India.
ReplyDeleteMacmohan
Very sensitive and tragically true.
ReplyDeleteHowever, being a born optimist I still do believe, and hope, that 'woh subah kabhi to aayegi.....'
I do wish that teachers like you can teach their students that, like the defence forces, joining politics to serve fellow countrymen is also a very noble profession.