The 63rd Independence Day dawns,
Amidst the cacophony of car horns,
The screech of a multitude of newborns,
The whiff champa in luscious government lawns.
India is awake.
*
The angry afternoon sun scorches down on emaciated workers,
A mangy dog rummages for some left over,
The neighbor counts the blasts – keeping score,
The young ‘un propagates – his throat sore,
The sky overcast with no drop to quench the earth’s many a pore.
India plods on.
*
The podium talks of military power,
Indifferent, the peasant prays for a torrential shower,
The clan hordes more – filling up its private coffer,
The Sensex plunges a little lower,
The red flag unfurls in the east the stench of danger,
India defines ambiguity.
*
Cynics launch a tirade against inefficiency,
Students rally for immediate change with an urgency,
The old remember the ‘good ol’ days’ with frequency,
The commission steals funds as if in an emergency,
The battle of languages rages on with fluency.
India disappoints.
*
Muddy children play games with sticks and stones,
Under the moonlight the aghori baba counts out skulls and bones,
The cities are abuzz with more than a million phones,
Growing with only three more to beat in international zones,
New age philosophies perforate the societal fabric in drones,
Jeans in the streets and purdah within homes,
A token woman president – fit to embarrass the young and the grown.
India tries.
*
A hot tea during a cloud burst,
The smell of the earth first,
Then the drops quench the thirst,
Pigtails with red ribbons, a kaleidoscope of Technicolor, brightly clad young girls,
Drenched bodies atop bikes whizz and whirl,
Imposing moustaches with an imperial upward twirl.
India smiles.
*
The blessed land.
Three million gods and reincarnation for support.
Blue turban minority rule.
The swish of a whip behind the scenes.
Happily ignorant common men.
The land of holy confusion.
The two thousand year old civilization follows the same narrow path.
*
Shiva, Jesus, Muhammad, Zarathustra and Buddha are busy laughing.
