To Poets!

To Poets!

Dedicated to all the unpublished poems in the world.

 

Have you ever written a line,
as penetrating as those of Shelley,
a verse or two as sublime as Walcott’s?
Neither have I. Still you and I,
nevertheless, are poets of course,
perhaps of a different kind, or not!

 

Perhaps we are historians, but unlike
Herodotus or Thucydides, recording
atrocities and kingdoms of the bygone days,
we take snapshots of the now on a plate,
smeared grey with silver nitrate from the past
and hold it out against the future’s effervescent light!

 

Perhaps we are social critics as well,
but unlike Fareed Zakaria or Yuval
Harari, we want to keep it brief, we do not explain!
Perhaps we are like Florence Nightingale,
a statistician turned healer, or Keats,
an apothecary, healing the human souls instead!

 

Or maybe there is no reason at all,
that compels us to write, save that we are
madness incarnate, with countless thoughts buzzing in our heads
and emotions, by the name of hormones
flooding our hearts and until we unsheathe
our humble pens for blood and to bleed, we simply cannot rest!

 

But for every word that we write
there are always two or three we must hide,
and another bunch are buried underground,
like those pillars we do not see
traversing the visible structures around!
But they’re there, thankful in their thankless duties.

 

So, let us celebrate those words, unseen,
for without them, poetry could not have been
the iceberg that sank the Status Quo of Titanic!
And to all the heroes, unsung, who bled for writing it,
let my humbly audacious pen sing this unworthy song –
Hats off to you and your words, soar as high as you can, for as long!


 

The Future of Freedom 1 : The Seeds of Liberty

(This is the first of a series of poems inspired by one of the greatest non-fictions of recent time, “The Future of Freedom: Illiberal Democracy at Home and Abroad” by Fareed Zakaria)

 

The future of freedom seems rather bleak
for the millions of simple inhabitants,
settled throughout the prolific Ganges plain.

The pathogen is a composite one
and highly potent too, astride the realms
of both economy and politics…

What an irony that mankind’s future
shall always be sketched in their history!

Being a land ruled by imported dynasties
for the better part of the millennium
and the native indulgent elites
ever vying for a crumb of the imperial bread,
the native populace could neither sow nor reap
the fragile seeds of individual liberty.

Being a land both rich with minerals deep inside
and a fertile abundance of growth on the face
there has never been a dire need of skills among
the geometric rise of the native populace.

There, the seeds of liberty had never been sowed
from which the fabled shrines of freedom could have grown…