Simply put, love cannot be exhibited or publicised by changing one’s digital profile or uploading a picture of the national flag to social media. It’s a matter of internalisation that occurs in the innermost of one’s mind. Any public display of any love is simply a gimmick.
Cheating is the 'new normal' of our present time. Cheaters cheat, and win and wield, amass. And people gets sandwiched!
Ma Ganga is merciless in monsoon
It sports and kills us
Its holy water is red with our fresh blood
It makes us refugees in our own land.
Bulging bellies, meaty thighs
Carp faces, hurried feet, talks of money, car, wine and girls
Dry limbs hurry for a smooth end
Feisty girls to sharpen body ridges
Abandoned people, abandoned hopes,
The cost of fertilizer and pesticides multiplied,
Beels are dry, But they will sow jute again.
It is a tribute to the fierce spirit of Stan Swamy who was killed by the state for his free voice, and for his cause for the tribals.
It highlights the post-modern, post-truth way of life. Savagery of wealth coexists with the unbearable pains of the poor.
It focuses on the political hegemony of babus of Bengal, and who are happy with the marginal status of Muslims and Adivasis.
Indian Muslims have been abandoned by legal and institutional frameworks, and vilified by an increasingly virulent communalism, with dark clouds of genocidal violence looming in the background.
The poem is about Modi's digital army, which can kill anybody's honour and dignity online within seconds. It is based on Swati Chaturvedi's book 'I am a Troll'.
