Monday, 17 September 2012


I look at him
He delivers a television speech,
Country welcomes his voice,
He is like an image of deliberation
And he marches on, and dwells in public mind,
As if he is voyaging through villages
Like chief of maintaining of provisions,
Food, drink and dwellings,
I believe he is man of words,
I have to honor him.

In his speech he plays like king,
And he declares, “We have to arrive at
Highest post of our life, and
We have to come out of our burdens.”
It sounds good to hear all thoughts,
He just then declares,
Selling of elementary episode of life,
But villagers do belief to have with it,
And it cannot be sold out.
I think it is a bargain,
Shopping with basketful items,
Air, the sunlight, water, and the nature,
Those are once our originality of surviving,
And now those are being sold out by own erosion.

The speech ends,
Flushes of camera bulbs go wild,
Photo of the king comes in breaking news,
I remain as mute observer
Looking at the black hole
I am living with erosion of soil,
As if I am pushed across vineyard,
And subjected to live in wound with empty hand,
Life is burden, I realize it.

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