Tuesday, July 04, 2006


May be with all good intentions
When we called them ‘Harijans’
It became a political ploy
Where the symbol reigned over substance.

The idea of God in man, ‘Nara-Narayana’
Became the voter-based ‘Janta-Janardan’
God, the Lord, the Omnipotent king
Was now represented by a human being.

His Excellency is the titular head of state
Although in his name the administration runs
And he goes through mock rituals and reverence
In effect, a mere rubber stamp: the sham thickens.

Then what to talk of an ordinary voter
Doesn’t matter if he dies of hunger
As a beneficiary of the welfare state
The citizen is hardly a stakeholder.

Justice is no less a pretension
It’s virtually an arbitration
One court over-rules another, so often
In their self-righteous make-believe world.

Each ‘Pradesh’ is seen as ‘pardesh’
Nationalism idea seems contrived
Democracy, patriotism, all alien
Everybody enjoys this cloaks and masks game.
No point simply to straddle along
Quick, quick! Clamber up, bugger
To catch up with the rest of them
You must drum up that killer instinct.

There’s always room at the top
And when nothing short of sky is the limit
It certainly pays to be ambitious
And be in the pursuit of excellence.

Even if fame lasts for only fifteen minutes
Everything is fair in the age of unreason
Beg, borrow or steal, whatever you can
For heaven’s sake, somebody become.

Hell with to be in the queue
One must become at least a who’s who
Once there, you must learn a small trick
To pull the rug from under the others’ feet.

Nobody would offer it on a platter
You must do your own positioning
To be able to snatch when the chance comes
And grab it for as long as you prefer.

It is a curse to be at the receiving end
Hierarchy, a hard fact of life as of Nature
To be upward mobile is of course a virtue
But an inward gaze is infinitely better, still.