Children of a Lesser God

The Bawa of Bhendi Bazar

mystics are born
not made mystics
come disappear
memories dont
fade the mystic
of bhendi bazar
touched people
his personality
multitude of
dark shades
some looked
at him with awe
others were afraid
respect they paid
buying him cold drinks
food with a hope that
their lives he would
upgrade who was
the bawa of bhendi
bazar a madman
or a mystic who
lived from hand
to mouth knew
no trade ..

Hope is Only A Coin Away

they put their hands
in their pockets but
wont pay,,,giving
money to beggars
is not on their agenda
come what may
for every coin you
give for your family's
welfare goodwill
the beggar prays
on the depths of
misery is where
they stay ..
deprived of
education
school or
play ..
children of
a lesser god
made of clay
in their mothers
womb they
 were betrayed
childhood forgotten
childhood misplaced

Get The Fuck Off Dont Beg Here

says the man the owner of a shop
he is angry he says he will call the cops
the little child forced to beg by his parents
has to beg or he will be walloped ..on the
steps at mount mary on the top..surely
this is not a photo op ,, i shoot beggars
to promote their humanity beyond
caste color creed every year a new
crop ..clean india swach bharat
a nice thought  but beggary
with its deep entrenched roots
branches how does one stop

charity demands beggars
money the main prop ..

Swach Bharat Is A Distant Dream

to me as a sixty year
old fumbling man it seems
goondas in the parliament
political dons  corrupt cops
that connive scheme
can the pristine soul of
mother India be redeemed
battered beaten blue by
murderers criminals rapists
acid throwers molesters
wife beaters swach bharat
is  it just a political theme
cleaning the garbage dirt in
a mans soul should not
loose steam.. bringing the
hapless poor downtrodden
marginalized minorities
into the mainstream..

every Indian should take pledge
work solemnly on a single goal
as  a team not just daydream

Woman a Beast of Burden

Woman
a beast of burden on the move
on her head her childhood ,
adulthood motherhood
a womanhood
only pain as a
counter-move
her credentials
her deafening doom
her upcoming life
wont improve
a cattle a chattel
a commodity
a currency
her sexuality
that she has to prove
her house
a blown away roof
her eyes
storing tears
that are waterproof
her soul burnt at the stake
not fireproof

Our God Deserted Us The Day We Were Born..

the day we stepped
out from our mothers
battered womb he
was gone ,,leaving
us helpless to beg
on the streets
mortgaged to
the moneylender
we were pawned
signed sealed
without bond
dying fishes
in a loveless
pond ,,