On Sundays I Become a Beggar Poet and a Dam Madar Malang, a photo by firoze shakir photographerno1 on Flickr.
I move about barefeet like I did when I worked for myself now I have mortgaged my soul and my testicles .. only on weekdays I am a high end corporate fashion whore.. I spread my legs to fate that fucks and flips me over ..killing me softly with my own song.
I miss Thursdays going to Mahim Dargah sitting with the beggars sharing their food and understanding the fucke poetry of their miserable life... I know a beggar who is now a millionaire he has his own landed property and comes in white clothes to feed the same beggars he sat with.. such is my world of poetic illusions.
I know young kids who begged at Ajmer and are now hijra prostitutes .. and why blame the system that even makes politicians into crooks why envy a beggar becoming a millionaire.. but as Indians we are always envious of the others who make it big in life, we will complain about them file a fictitous PIL in court simply because God made him Sharukh Khan and so lets trouble him some more this is the Truth of the Indian Way of Life.. as I see it in my opinionated poets mind..
We breed our success on hate envy and distrust /
And honestly I hate life I would welcome Death gladly without batting an eyelid..
Though I will miss my grand kids is not the only reason to live I live because I am forced to live in a penitentiary do my time and than I shall Fuck Off from this planet of no returns ..
