Monday, August 29, 2016

Two poems in Aainanagar

I also have two poems: 'China: a Ghazal' and 'Cocooned' in Aainanagar. The editor is the poet, Nandini Dhar, with whom I had a hot and heated debate about animal factory farming. Although she did not include that specific animal poem, here are two others. I am putting the links as well as the poems below. The link to the poems is here.

China(a ghazal)
Made in China, wrapped in China, an alien world lives in China
cellphones censorship coats and cruelty, always the lair is China

Rumours and secrets are whispered in hushed tones about China
From behind the curtains,, we curiously peep and stare at China

Slogging workers strive and slave and struggle in China
But I ask you, maker of souvenirs, is it fair in China?

Do not sit idle, do not look away. Raise your voice, Republic of China
But would you dare face the wrath and the glare of the government of China?

Exiled from their country, fled to India, where are the Tibetans in China?
‘No Country for Tibetan Men’, how do they fare, in China?

Feeding poultry till they swell to ten times their size in China
Cutting baby birds’ beaks and tails of the young mares in China

Burning them alive for their meat, skin and bone in China
The pots boiling hot with geese, ducks and hares, in China

The hunted bear in the ‘frosted’ woods ‘lovely dark and deep’ in China
Skinned alive first, butchered later, howling jumping, a flare in China

They do not deem animal sentient beings in China
But objects to be bought and sold, traded, not reared, in China

The most heavily populous country in the world is China
But the roads and the airports are empty and bare in China

The masses of people hidden in the hush of secrecy in China
Tell me why are living people to be seen so rare in China?

Aghast at the picture of violence and bloodshed in China
Shruti asks in anguish, do you care, in China?



You lie enclosed in your cocoon
And I sleep oblivious in mine.
We live as strangers.
Only the whispering wind brushes
Us together, and we touch, at times.
Stray insects that crawl over you
Crawl over me too.
When the cocoons burst, will we
Recognise, will we realise
That we are sisters born
Of the same butterfly?

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