A Journal of Mahatma Gandhi Antarrashtriya Hindi Vishwavidyalaya

And on whose shoulders,
Are placed the hands of
Some monster
Or the other.
UNDER THE UMBRELLA OF VENERATION
The infuriated scorpion, envenomed,
Basking in the aura of veneration
Look, look
How tranquil, in repose
In the noble company of gentlefolk
And amidst glaring flash lights
Lost in amazement
Where, for a while
In the twilight of courtesies
Suddenly lulled are his perceptions.
Like dark stains
Do appear
Our own….our very own tribe.
Can you bear this
Heart rending alienation, this drifting apart!
And, who is this bystander, this puny man?
Yet, his sky is full of lightning
And his promises, scatter like dry leaves
In a whirlwind .
With what superb expectations are you standing there?
You,
With temples afire and parched tongue.
With furitive glances
Searching for dagger hidden in the ribs, somewhere
Can you hear within yourself the sound of tingling blood
Like warning bells?
154 :: January-March 2012