Poems for KHUSHI

Listen! You non-existing GOD, I have broken the slumber prison I don’t care about your blessings and your curse I am the maker of evens and odds. Neither Satan nor Iblis, I am a man, hungry on the posh streets, Ready to challenge your magical tricks With the blades of logical bricks You hid the sun from clutches of mine, You hid the rice and offered me raw flesh, You dried the water I wanted to drink. You kicked me out and called me swine. Listen! You non-existing GOD, I’ve been sharing the food from thieves and burglars, Drinking the holy water of gutter, Gathered the dare from the road-side prostitutes To slain the darkness of ignorance, And I created my own SUN. Keeping those moons and stars for you to pray, I have got a pen to kill and eat my prey. As I have created my own sun. 

First time I saw the moon in the water About to sink but still blinks Not blank but wanted to utter Some words what she suffered First time I saw moon in the water. Once upon a time, The moon used to shine, Just like a bright sun dipped in the golden wine. And used to make plains green, flowers bloom, and air swim. Used to make leaves fall, and the whole world stare when it call. But now, it has got no wings to flutter, No words for flatter, First time I saw moon in the water. Tears rolling down the cheeks, When I hurt her with my speech. I could see my moon in the water. First time, I saw moon in the water. 

Tonight, I looked at the sky with my teary eyes And thought if you were here, father. I wanted to apologize But then you died Leaving me alone, to walk further. If I’ve treated you so wrong, I beg your soul to come down, Keep hands on my head, And sit beside my bed, And sing the song of the lonely star. Father, You come in my dreams and ask for my aid I weep in my nightmares, but this I’ve never shared Because I want to cry on my deeds I want to cry for the father I need I want your forgiveness if I’ve done some wrongs, If I was rude, crude, screwed. But I need you now to guide me in the dark, Will you be the lonely northern star? Tonight, A boy was rude to his dad, So mad, so sad … that poor lad. I was mad at you too. But if my words have broken your heart, I beg your soul to come down, Keep hands on my head, And sit beside my bed, And sing the song of the lonely star.

Movie Review: Fandry There is a very nice quote by Dr. Ambedkar. “Indians today are governed by two different ideologies. Their political ideal set in the preamble of the Constitution affirms a life of liberty, equality and fraternity. Their social ideal embodied in their religion denies them.” Fandry shows you the reality of this quote which is still there in 21 st century. Though Constitution of India has given right to each and everyone to live but still the caste system has not given the right to the lower-castes to rise. They are still forced to chase the pigs. ‘Jabya’(Somnath Avaghade), a 13 to 14 years old boy from an untouchable caste ‘Kaikadi’, is staying with his family in the outskirts of the village. His father ‘Kachrya’ (Kishor Kadam) aka Kachru (means ‘garbage’) does any work given to him by the villager, from swiping the village, providing tea, to removing pigs from gutter and from village. ‘Jabya’ is a dreamer who always dreams about his one sided love ‘Shalu’ ...

I don’t know when I knew that I actually exist. Some blurred memories, some vintage images, Black and white people in those torn pages. But I remember, when I did cry Outside a store, looking at the toy. Hearing senses will be weaker with passing time But I will still remember those nursery rhymes, Sharing tiffin with friends under the tree, Swings and slides, and games time free. I will see this flashback when I will see nothing more, I would like to live my existence. Can I live it once more?

In a night of glazing light, Crowded streets and hawkers’ treats, People were lost in their talks. Were eating, munching, talking and laughing. And there was a sight A boy came by, Looking as dusty as that street. With his small, dirty finger, my thigh he knocked. The colourful things he was selling Were the balloons that caught my sight. He was pale and light, “Must be hungry” I guess from his breathe. I offered him the pizza in my plate. He refused my offer without being hesitate. I saw his balloons and I looked at his face. “Colourful are the children of his age.” His colours were absorbed by the balloons he sell, Hunger for food made him colourless and pale. He went back and sat on his pal pavement. He couldn’t sell anything, today nothing was his achievement. He was nodding his head ‘coz of sleep on his eyes. I could not bear the sight. I went and put a note in his hand. He got conscious; he put it in his tore pants. I was about t...

When I look at the sun, And I don’t blink my eyes, My eyes get dampen. Though he is not my father Nor I am his son. It is the only moment, They say I cry. But I know I don’t. I have some reasons, when you will ask me why. We were brought up this way, That we only live for today So we don’t care of what is going around. So we don’t bother if dear ones are going away. But we are sad, in isolation we sit. We sob within the heart, and it sounds haunting beats. We cry without a tear in our eye. Tears are not rains that can come again and again. I have saved them for myself. I have saved them for myself.