Random_Thoughts

December! We celebrate, With vows and bows. Bounty 2020 we crawled, With thoughts that snarled.   Year of virus or wires?   Old and young queued, Booked seats for joy rides. Surprised faces at ticket window. No fare though all fair!   Class, kind and bank book, Scrapped one and all in a nook. Transit passengers in roller coaster ride, The few crossed joy ride.   A gamble of wires or virus!   Withered spring and frigid summers, Like the clock ticking on the confined walls. Whizzy winters of December 2020, Despair to hope from 31 st to 1 st .   Fare it well with Farewell. Saccharine songs like obituaries. Wreaths, lights and crackers crackle, At the dusk of December 2020.   We greet the 21 st year of 21 st century.  

  Our love bloomed like a new apartment. Our love ventilated in the four walled walls. White-washed walls with no stains. Was it our love with no pains? Time played its tricky tricks. Oh! Damp walls with crusty stains. Monsoonal air we waited to pass. Brush and strokes satisfied the walls.     Calm closets embraced the garments, Gender lessons learnt the hangers. Choked closet pukes the garments, Knots and wraps new learns of the hangers. Candles treated us with scented treats. Music and roses served for dinners. Two decades forth and we wait for dinners. News and calories, we serve for dinners.   Ceiling glowed with chandeliers. Sparkling lights lighted us more. Curtain of glows fell upon us. This time ceilings glowed with cobwebs. We unwebbed the cobwebs of conflicts. We reached difficult-to-read spots. We sponged the walls of webs. Ah! Stains stayed in our webbed eyes.   Teak wood door with chimes. ...

She is an ocean infinite. She bundles up her bosom with infinite.   Golden dust dazzles her dull days. Silver streaks supple her solitary nights. Unadulterated reflections blue her soul. She is the green wish of fish.   Pelts of hurts hurt her heart. Like ripples, she calms after havoc. She makes the fossil from the wilds. Debris she voyages to her womb.   She guests the guest of storms. So many swim in her salinity. She is sinned for his sinks. Lotus and Lilies float in her waves.   Panting patience takes a U-turn. She treads on the Ring of Fire. She costumes in Magma. She is the old ocean on a stroll.   She spools and unspools in waves. Her meekness no more is her weakness. She roars like a fierce lioness. She tames the humbugs and lichens with strife.   She is an ocean infinite. She bundles up her bosom with infinite.      

Sheer in summers, woolen in winters, Like a chameleon it changes, Its texture with seasons. My shoes pooh pooh, The unadorned feet with no socks. A pair entangled like new lovers, I distangle to shield the frivolous feet.   Pair pairs after hours of wait. Stinking socks spin in the tub. Blazing sun dust makes them blub. Pinching peg drills the pair. Sun kissed laundry I load. Holding back to twine,   Red and Green pairs wind.   Like an owl that cannot fly, Endless waits of the void self. Seasons remodel as seasonal friends. I pack up the furry socks. Pairs snuggle and sleep. Misplaced yellow goes in scrap. Basic once, now a crap.   Ah! Solitary sock in yellow. No more can it mellow.    

  Exalted echoes in the empty spaces. Adieu! 2020, the year of Virus. Vaccine to exhaust the venomous virus. At last! A deep sigh of hollow hopes. “Vaccine to vanish the virus!” Moaned men in chorus.   Hoodwinked hopes to wipe out the virus. Deadly virus pillaged the breaths. Queues of wreaths in the wait rooms. Breathless mortuaries mourned the numbers. “Oh! Virus of 2020 was the black hole.” Moaned men in chorus.   Virus turned One after ten and two months. Economy boosters and life savers played Tom and Jerry. Immunity tests tested the nervous men. Vaccinated all but one! “Virus was wiped yet multiplied.” Moaned men in chorus.   Masks and gloves lined the bins. Ebullient egos in the new dawn. Mocking the unbiased virus of brutality. Blinded to gender, caste, race and capital. “Impartial virus spaded into the grave.” Moaned men in chorus.   Rapes, genocides, nepotism and politics. Lasting viruses in tempora...

      Are we caged in this digital zoo? Aren’t we raged defending what ain’t true?   Searching, stalking and following, Blocking, unblocking and unfollowing. Are we sinking or drowning? Like the lovers of immortal Titanic.   We hoist unheroic heroes of hearsay, Blurry eyed are the blind followers. Influencers are like the ant colony. Queen ant promotes and demotes from remote.   Ephemeral ecstasies bloom like a lily. Prelude to Period blink in a trance. Emoticons cuff the emotions. Pinioned in the pinned taskbar.   Infinite voyage of the tarnished apps. Dichotomy of the adorned and ugly news. Congested windows seldom ventilate in this digital zoo. Rusted keys infrequently unlock in this digital zoo.     Are we raged in this digital zoo? Aren’t we caged defending what ain’t true?  

  A son is born to bloom. Nectar he sucks in silver spoon. Stagnant souls serve the news. Aw! The Marshy waters wave in muse. Ceremonial sacrifices served for longevity. Wrinkled palms fold to bless.   A son born two and half decades back. Burnt bread he gulps every day. Sadist stunts serve the news. Oh! Turbulent waters weep in muse. Sticks and swear swords served for his caste. ‘Untouchable’! the blue-eyed word for the man-made caste.   Midas Touch, patronizes the gentry. The Sidam Touch marks the masses.  

  Rang bhoomi of Munshi Prem Chand, We watch in the Covid Winter of 2020. Players of muffled(land) in the roles of Eng(land) Actors have changed; rules unchanged. Drought and Famine feared the farmers. Dichotomy was the prank played on the soil.     MSP was like a sour crop. He reaped the harvest, Duly returned with chaff. Tell me who gained the gold grain? Sons of soil strangulated in struggles. Was it a Play or History?   To this day…… India, a land of unity in diversity,   Secular in soul with oneness in spirit, I read in the books of History. Farmers of India have harvested, This movement in the pages of world History. Shabads, Namaz, Hymns and Prayers from Holy Bible, Choired in chorus of humanity.   Unwalled Mosques, Gurudwaras, Temples and Churches, With silken carpets of wilted and greens, Chandlers of stars and moon, Halo of Sun and Seven colours of rainbow, Echoed with oneness of formle...

They are the land, They are landless. They give you gold(en)grains, They are grainless.   Gifts of pain sealed in fate. Aromatic sand suffocates solemn selves. Suicides and debts are the birth rights. Tear gas served to swerve the nerves.   Sons of soil swell in pride. They serve the platter with grains & wise.

Woo (man) ain’t akin to the woman. Patriarchy of words, I saw in the woman. Wif+Man, the baptised name for the woman. Humble gender without her ‘He-man.’ Female servant of man was the woman whispers Etymology. Dictionaries and Thesaurus tease me more, With the wounding words for woman: Weaker-Fairer Sex, Virgin, Slave and mistress. Dancing words in the shelves. Float across my mind floor. I drown in the unfair words of gender. Where He makes S as she. Where Man makes Wo as woman. Words wink at the ink. Immortal words for mortals. Red-blooded nib, nailed the Nouns and Adjectives. Everlasting words rule the pages. Accept or reject -your choice for the coming ages !    

I love her more and more, Not for simplicity but complexity. She has layers of satin and linen, Wrinkled sins and creased virtues, Contoured silhouette she crayons in shades, She is a river in joy, She is a drought in sorrows, (In) Compliant to match the mad times. Appeals to un(fair) minds. Sin(ful) to unfancy ;Sin(less) to fancy. Molten Sun to wage wars, Placid Sea to make peace, She is the womb with weeds and seeds, Of untold (mis)deeds. She is the tomb  of thistles and petals. Her echo flounders the half wit. No more a display crystal on the mantel piece. She is the shadow of herself. I love her layers of fury  and furry feathers. Not for clarity but intricacy.

Panj( five) and ab (water), the land of five rivers, Punjab, the land of mothers and martyrs. Madho Das to Banda Singh Bhadur, Hermit shielded as a military leader. He founded Punjab, the land of brave and hospitable. She has voyaged a thorny throne. Defeated races from Aryans to Mongols. Blood stained sword she adorned to shield injury. She was robbed of the Crown by the Crown. Kohi-e-noor or Duleep Singh are the recorded history. Golden names immortalised in unrecorded mystery. Her white veil is blood stained with Jallianwala Massacre. She lost the turbans of her sons, In the Geoncide of 1984. Beas, Chenab, Jhelum,Ravi and Satluj, Flow with sweat and blood of her martyrs. Comrades,this is the land of grains. She carries in her heart all the pains.

  Birds scare the scarecrow. Perching on the bamboo poles. They twitter to the tattered rags. “Rains but not grains!” Cried the wings in choir.   Fodder feeder is the cannon fodder, Political fodder withered the cattle fodder. Dry cows march to endless strikes. “Nursed without nursing!” Cried the calves in choir.   Ripe crop stoops for rips. Sultry soil sores and scatters. Bullock with cart cuddles the soiled seeds. “No man in his land!” Cried the golden grains in choir.   Old and young trampled on their debited feet. Workers on acres marched for Agri laws of flaws. Decisive battles with indecisive baits. “Not criminals but the sons of soil ! “Announced the farmers in choir.