Mother

 

  Mother

That young beggar on Bagbazar Platform

That mad woman 

with rags on her body

with massses of unkempt hair.

who laughs

who cries 

who screams at people going nowhere,

who lives on charities

on abuses and stones thrown 

at her by children, 

is going to be a " Mother".

The lame father smiles.

On one rainy evening

fellow nomadic beggar women

sat around her with comforting hands.

Rain falling

Thunders clapping

winds howling 

and she screams with an unknown pain,

Her screams pierced the universe.

Then all of a sudden

All became still

Silent.

A wailing came ...

The universe laughed ,

The assembly laughed

The baby arrived, half realizing

the mother held the baby close

Milk  oozed into the fumbling mouth,

tears rolled down mothers cheek,

the world stared at the divine mother,

The proud lame father

threw the crutch over and danced

Intoxicated.

None whatsoever

 

The Obligation


The half naked woman reads
"Fifty shades of grey"
on a rocking chair,
Rats scamper hesitantly
underneath.


And somewhere else
senile old man
gets smothered
by a speeding 30 c,
street lamps on VI P rejoice,
You and I exist
in our artificial  copulation
remembering Buladi
and the soft rubber 
underneath our pillow.


Bloody ganga flows
kasmir and Nepal burns
let babies and the mothers 
get slaughtered in gujrat or malabar,
Who cares
WHO CARES


yet half naked woman
rehearses for american Idol
with pierced throat,
Let this world go to hell
Let all the DEAD march to Maidan,
 Let the Helpless mobile
shriek in anguish for love


You and I this morning
are not the same as we were 
last night,
somewhere in between
billions of waves got extinct.


Let us close our doors
We have no obligation
NONE WHATSOEVER.


@ amiyo

Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now (HD)

Rag Bhupali

 

End of Morning raga

Non essential love survives 

in friction,

" Lakhsman Rekha"

multiplies Loneliness

day by day

day by dday.

That word is not said

the day comes to an end,

Heart bleeds with  Bhupali raga,

At the sunset

emptiness spreads to the horizon.

That word is not heard,

Night ends hand in hand 

with Bhairabi raga,

Tearful humming goes to sleep.

agonising " WAIT "

lives with hope

with the fragrant morning air.

@Amiyo