Switching hands


By RK Lakhi Kant

Driven ahead, driven to a risky end
by the mind of the new Indian
knows this but entangled
in its own gait
money and comfort mistaken
for peace
conclusive confidence in violence
as recourse
Truth manipulated, with what they
dictate as right
trample on the way, say the new elite
its punishing to men down the
economic ladder
Whats the mark of the new generation? –
Long forgotten, all that India represents
hardly a matter of concern now
impossible, anything, without
hurting others compulsively
Truth now is measured by cheap currency
the mania has caught the
poor man’s fancy too
and otherwise, the poor feel –
how torturous, working in the
heat and dust
for others to snatch the fruits
of labour, without remorse
where’s the work with
contentment; affection
not affliction
pure joy helping others
a reunion each day with friends,
close ones, and greetings
to the strangers too
life in the other India
which my mind ponders over
a canvas incomplete
the dawn has not broken
it is taking time
yet keep pondering, keep pondering.


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