“That kongressy,” yelled one neighbour. And brush

With intra-racism intricacy. Purposefully discriminatory as  the

Look  on  his face. No end to this, absolutely by the

Sickle-hammer-star brigade, just as no end to the flow

Of water through the Ganges. Red Empire, indeed.

Obscenities, virtue, deep rooted. Torture, invasion

Burnt with sulphur and pored molten lead.

The ‘otherness’, local Ethnocentrism resulted out,

Of the notion of  the cultural bandwagon, now a ‘cliché’ ----

This oft-repeated adage.

Middle Age barbarism.  Modern Age feudalism --- not unequal.

Plots concocted, vulgar-like, a blister ----

Unthinkable predicament, rather shameless. Interiors of

Conscience. Phallic domination, where even eagles dare.



Pick up ‘vegetables and women’ in the same breath, that’s your job

Subservient. Sidekicks all and sundry.

Insipient ---- the rest. Terrorised, not the body of the condemned, but

The mind and soul of the freethinkers. Haven’t dare to be exile.

The clown-king, hidden in self-righteous rhetoric, nudity.

George Orwell’s 1984 revisited, albeit in a reformed state.

Mobocracy such --- even Aristotle would have backtracked.

Mirroring this last gasp of idealogy gone bankrupt.

Form of  neo-colonialism. Insidious.

Forgotten the song : “Tomorrow to fresh woods and pastures new.”

Assurance in idiocacy. Ringmasters and trapeze-artists fifteen lacs ;

Ever-ready to share the booty.

When did we last dare to be ‘True’ individuals ?



- Dibyendu Ghosal