Sunday, 14 August 2011


To join Indians in their Celebration of the 64th years of Independence -
(15/08/1947), I have a 64-lines poem written thus:

By The Jungle Poet

Heroes have tried to face the gun
to save our land and now they're gone
with hope to hear the dancing drum
of smiling eyes and new reform
but vice versa is brought in turn
by gold-diggers that share the corns
with selfish minds and heartless beings -
oppressing souls for worldly things...

Heroes had fought for freedom sake;
aliens were sent away with aches
and brought relieve to every mind
to share the smiles with living kinds;
but politics of modern days
has spoilt the fruits of freedom base -
Ranking the poor to super-poor
looting their purse to fill their store...

The gentle men of peaceful night
are none but youths with future bright
who faced the toils to go to schools
to shape their minds with earning tools.
With all their strength they tried to heave
the heroes' dream with strong belief
that once a day their road will smooth
but now today they live with sooth...

Elections call for shedding bloods -
And activists are flogged with rods;
The silent minds with beating hearts;
The ploughers’ tools are foes to earth;
Even inkers are not at ease,
And lovers too can never kiss.
Constitutions are turned over
To suit their needs and hold power
Without a fear of Human Right –
Without a care for crying sights…

They use the shrines to boost their ways
And never think to count their days
For they have bought the souls of priests
And think they’re now unconquered beasts…
They rape and kill and jail with ease;
Decrees are formed for mouth to wheeze;
They steer the land with hunger dents;
And fill prisons with innocents…

And those we called the government guards
Are just the tools to make it hard
And kill the dream of heroes past
And silent souls with deadly blast –
They lie and file against the souls
And work with courts to fill the holes
Quoting sections and subsections
In books they planned for oppressions…

Shakespearean time was filled with masks
Obama’s time has called for axes;
The public purse is blessed with tears
And masses hearts are filled with fears…
No one to speak the bitter truth
Atrocity has spread its booth
And stand at ease (like soldier’s boot -
Ready to clear the men on foot)
With Generals of soul clearing
And sharp shooters of no bearing…

And every year they gather us
For matching pass of men of force
To stab the end of alien’s rule
And mark the birth of selfish rule…

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