The Kettle and the Vessel

the kettle and the cooking vessel
in their spare time were having a chat
 the state of our politics of tit for tat
 political parties fighting among
themselves for the poor common
man nobody bats politicians
who came to serve the nation
 living in huts hovels now live
in mansions princely towers
 lavish flats to appease
the industrialists for forest
 lands they conspire with
 rogue hunters to kill wildcats
 destroying forever tigers habitat
 offering Acche din 15 lakhs in
your  bank account is the format ..
dance of democracy with thugs of
 Hindustan corruption inflation
 they promise to combat
 once they win the elections
 they crush the common man
under the door mat.. infighting
 among the higher echelons
 conniving bureaucrats ..
building statues instead of
 building infrastructure
building state of art schools
 colleges hospitals this is our
 political stand people dying
 everyday on railway tracks
but we have to show the world
 we have the bullet train from
Mumbai to Ahmedabad
our success and stats

 Finally progress development
 totally forgotten changing names
 of Muslim sounding cities
Faiizabad becomes Ayodha
  Pryagraj new name of Allahabad

Unable to build the Ram Mandir as
they were busy with cow lynchings
 ghar wapsi 4 years gone down
the drain just like that ..

2019 is not about wining or losing ,,
a fragmented opposition each one
wondering as PM who will bell the cat ...

Desh Age Bad Raha Hai...Waqt Kismet Se Lad Raha Hai

In the morning coming back from my tennis
at Chapel Road trying to have a bath with
a bottle of water ,,helpless a mother or a
sister shocked at my moderation i shot her
her pain on the soul of cyberspace not
photo shopped or morphed i caught her
now getting trolled on twitter ...my voice
they cannot smother ,,teaching me ethics
of photography girls old enough to be
my granddaughters ,,see my profile before
you insinuate ,,as i dont shoot porn
it was her fate by the Third Eye of Shiva
that to the humility of my camera bought her

Jesus Was Once Again Crucified In West Bengal

In the Land Of Mamta Mothers love
turned heinous by wild depraved
animals the final assault as 71 year
old nun Indias daughter grieves the
Lord She Calls ,, forgives her rapists
after being battered sexually mauled
in our system there is a genetic fault
because of a few of these animals
the world sees us as rapists by default
Sab ka sath sab ka vikas when will this
halt .. good days are million light years
away every new incident a new jolt
jesus on the cross bleeds again now
nailed severely as governance all over
our beloved motherland somersaults

Bandra is the only drug addict friendly suburb of Mumbai..

the cops see them but turn the other way
simply because like other criminals drug addicts
do not pay ,, no hafta in simple common mans
language they say..why are the criminals not
scared of our cops snatching bags from ministers
wife of the ruling party daring defiance i must say
every mornings paper has a new crime on display
a builder shot , a van escapes with loot ,these are
not incidents stray..as every evil act attack the soul
of mumbai ,, as she weeps as always .. rape of children
molestation eve teasing , fake police more original than
the actual cops the fabric of peace hope humanity all
frayed , riots , hindu muslim animosity no healing hand
to give succor hate everywhere ,,everybody all the
prime ministers men busy with Swach Bharat , the real
garbage of crime criminals no brooms to drive the away

acche din ka intezar ,, ab ki bar has taken a lot of time
for good law order management .. good governance
to the god almighty we pray ,,,je suis Mumbaikar  in pain
seeing the scenario my poetic thoughts  cosmically flayed

When Will Good Days Come ..

for the poor
the homeless
the hopeless
children in
your kingdom
children of a
lesser god
the future
withdrawn
but a smile
on their face
aache din
kab ayenge
they hum
badhai ho
badhai ho
they clap
their hands
mouths
without
chewing
gum
back to
begging
after i
took this
 shot
poeticizing
a pain
that made
my vision
numb..
in the beginning
before we opened
our eyes we were
all born dumb
intelligence ruined
 us forever look
what we have
become .
empty noise
from a drum
a distant
dream
seems
unwholesome
from the fire
into a frying pan
burnt out
before good
 times come