We don’t want anything for form’s sake: Like muscles pulled in the back of our arms, Or lashes prominently visible On the back of the oxen, Or our future sacred and shrunk In the affidavits of loans; We want everything actual Of life, equality and what not. As the sun, the wind and the cloud Remain close to us in houses and fields; Likewise we want to have Of polity, belief and joy, A feel close to our lives, Mighty ones, we want everything actual. We don’t want anything hoax-like As a tout’s evidence falsely concocted In a case of illicit distillation; Fairness that a patwari may profess, Or the oath the middleman may take – A fact on the palm of our hand we want Like saltish tinge in sugar-cane’s jaggery Or nicotine in the burning hookah; Something like skein on the beloved’s lips The lover feels on kissing, we want. We don’t want books to read Tucked on the lathis of the police; We don’t want to hear Songs to the tune of military boots declaimed, With yearning fingertips we want to feel Songs resonating on the tops of trees. To taste something bitter in tear-gas, Or one’s own blood on the tongue to taste, Is recreation for none; But we don’t want anything for form’s sake We want everything actual Life, socialism or what not...
Posted on: Tue, 20 Aug 2013 03:37:34 +0000
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