Descendants of Darkness!


Where are my new clothes?
asked a tender voice
Where is the money?came a reply.
-Cashless economy!

Where are my new clothes?
asked an innocent heart.
Once the septic tanks are cleaned, came a reply.
-Swaccha bharat!

Where are my new clothes?
asked a widow's kid.
After the harvest, came a reply.
-Vikas, on its way.

'No cash in the economy', muttered the tender voice.
'Once dad returns', informs the innocent heart.
'After the harvest', anticipates the widow's kid.
Children of the Nation Poor, chuckle.

' What is Diwali?' asked the Children.
Victory of light over darkness, said
the bare-chested oldman nearby.
'So where is the light?'they wanted to know!

We are but, descendants of darkness;
that is what we know, came the reply.
So children asked, 'why no clothes for us?'
The old man clarified: You don't need them, the country does.

From prosperity to happiness, no sharing it celebrates.
Crackers to Jewellery, all spending it celebrates.
Clothes of modesty and Clothes of decency
You don't need them, the Country does.

There is light. There is darkness.
What do they celebrate? wondered, the kids.
There is darkness despite light!
Why do they celebrate? wondered, the oldman.

In the shuttled conversation
between the Young and the Old,
Diwali was celebrated. -both
In light and in darkness.

Saravanan

To Gauri,

The fearless soul.

By a growing sense of numbness;
Whose collective conscience won’t prick
How sad! fellow citizens, mourn not-
But celebrate,
When bullets dodged your body.
I realize truth is not
for the feeble-minded folks;
It is for the free spirit.
Not for the devoted
Who prostrate before
The altar of intolerance.
I realize truth is
For the strong heart
Not for the dimwit,
Ever gullible for political profit.

Freedom of speech,
So unaffordable
Cost us, you!
How much more
Should we shell out?
To awaken the last soul
Whose middle-class slumber
Is ever-lasting.

Narrow-minded thugs
Wanted to get rid of you.
Perhaps they saw
an embodiment of fearlessness,
staring at them;
Perhaps they didn’t see
The eternity of indomitable spirit
Inspiring people
For all ages to comes.

Swords of Saffron
Understand not,
Ideas cannot be killed.
Fire can be put out,
Sunshine not.
Flames of knowledge create
Ignited Minds
For generations to come.

Phansare, Dhabolkar and Kalburgi's
Mightier Pens illuminated this Nation.
We realize how noble truth-seeking is!
How powerful and overwhelming truth can be!
That blind faith and statistical lies
Get crushed under its mighty weight.

The Rational South remembers!
Religious bigotry everywhere
In the darkness of despotism,
Murder! What a cowardly act!
Should we show them the nib of your pen?
To demonstrate courage?

The baton of your glorious pen
Is passed on to all of us.
I will write,
I will speak,
to save and secure
facts from fake news;
to keep walking the path
of uprightness and virtues.

Saravanan