Moulana’s Khutba

Eid prayer is done
As usual, the Moulana
Then spends many minutes
On the importance of khushir din,
The need for more space for Eidgah Maidan,
An unending list of dos and donts for his people

But he hardly knows his men and women,
Closely following him with awe and wonder!

Moulana goes to Gaza, Moulana goes to Kashmir, UP…
He, however, does not know that his
People are mostly migrant labours,
Ill-clothed, ill-fed,
who gather here
Crossing many seas of troubles and humiliations,
Even risking lives,
He hardly knows the plight
Of his people, the ills that
Silently kill his abbas, ammus, sisters and bhais
Year after year…

Or, may be, he knows all,
But he is not permitted
To tell the disturbing tales
In this happiest day

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Freevoice

I write because there is some lie that I want to expose, some fact to which I want to draw attention, said George Orwell. As a writer, I never kowtow to the whims and dictates of the sacred godmen or godwomen, the political bigots and hypocrites, dealers of laymen, the dishonest and self-serving intellectuals, traders of religions, the betrayers of ‘other’ Indians who eke out a living by their sweat, who are living in fear for being lynched for this and that.

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