Painting-Poesy 14 - Happy Diwali 2020

Like a long long 'ladi', news keeps bursting. 

Like the 'chakra', our heads keep spinning.

 

As the black snakes did to surfaces,

Our souls feel like deadened empty crevices.

Like a rocket launch gone wrong

We are victims of viruses strong.

But Diwali is not about crackers

Or even sweets or such markers.

The festival of lights heralds 

Truth's triumph over ignorance and the dark. 

From the great churning of the ocean came Lakshmi

So too maybe this chaos will lead to some yet unknown prosperity. 

Maybe climate change taken seriously 

Maybe values instead of economy given priority. 

Maybe with family and friends a rediscovering of humanity

Maybe love, hope, peace, a restoring of sanity. 

Diwali, the night of the new moon, 

From nothing births a fresh cycle soon. 

Diwali, a dark night, the darkest of all, 

Welcomed to teach us anew evil's fall. 

Wish Everyone a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous Diwali! 

May we share abundance, may we give plenty, 

May we celebrate equal opportunity, 

May we shine with and for compassion and liberty. 

Happy Diwali 2020!

- Written on 13 November 2020.

- Painted on 13 November 2020.

- Covid-19  and the ban on firecrackers (so very welcome) in India and the many many pieces of news that have affected us this year inspired this piece. 

Happy Birthday Karthik! 2020

Your chuckles brighten my day

Your zingers in my mind ever replay

On so many a topic, your unique take

Makes me rethink, reexamine, all that's at stake.

Your aspirations teach me to aim higher

Your quest for right makes me try better

You awe me with your focus, your kindness

Your refusal to ever settle for mundaneness.

Your dreams, your goals, I hope I can help achieve,

With you I grow and in a better tomorrow believe.

Happy Birthday, Karthik!

- Written on 13 November 2020 

- Self-explanatory 

The Blue Collar in the Hospital

Each time I am in a hospital, I am in awe

Of the dedication, commitment, of the passion raw.

The challenges of Covid-19 fought against daily,

No compromise on the treatment's quality.

The nurses have families, the ward boys too,

Some have stories of being in their buildings' taboo.

Yet they come, show concern

How can we with shame not burn?

What help we lend them, these warriors brave?

Each day they help avert dangers grave.

Checking, wiping, sweeping, mopping

Every newcomer tirelessly advising.

Protocols imposing, even as there is grumbling,

Persistently repeating, frustration sometimes revealing.

These are warriors, often cast aside,

Of the Doctors alone worship we abide.

But these sheet and dressing changers,

These rules implementers,

These frontline workers,

These are ours and the doctor's saviours.

So the next class on values and aspirations,

Should encourage participation in these vocations.

For what are we without the nurse and farmer and the sweeper?

What military, what white collar could without these prosper?

- Written on 12 Nov 2020.

- Was in hospital since an aunt had been hospitalised. 

The Digital Din

Said a little bird "I wish, I wish

Do this, do that, and be time rich. 

A day has just so many hours

So much of it on the laptop for the work farce. 

Then the mobile with us toys. 

There is just so much noise. 

The notifications get my attention. 

Then Telegram pops-up with one more question. 

The pages of the book drew me in, 

Kept me cocooned away from this din. 

Yet, I wonder why I can't cope. 

With more platforms, why do I only mope. 

More time I need perhaps

Should not let my attention lapse."

But no, what you need, is to relax.

To trust yourself to be on the right track.

Let the mind absorb at a speed that suits it. 

The world marches to its own beat, let it. 

Why join the crowd, when you are unique.

Why berate yourself for needing peace.

- Written on 6 October 2020.

- A student of mine was wishing for more time to spend on thr course. He seemed to be doing quite enough to us teachers but somehow his simply expressed desire struck me to write this for him, but also applies to all of us. 

The Stench of Caste, The Winds of Patriarchy

One more rape, one more sensation,

Soon to be: remain forgotten. 

Oh! Some anniversary we may celebrate.

Her name too we will take in vain. 

Jyoti or Manisha it matters not,

Nothing may ever stem patriarchy's rot.

As long we divert with the unemployment claim,

As long we refuse to the system change,

As long as we insist on false narratives,

As long as we fail to see how we are casteists,

As long as we deny the racism in this,

No change will come, no change can exist. 

Let's talk caste, let's talk of patriarchy,

Let's talk of the power hierarchy.

Let's talk Serious Man who naively thinks,

The 4th generation will live with equality. 

Let's talk capitalism that helps thrive

People with power to oppress and survive. 

Let's talk about our obsession 

With so called traditions as distraction. 

But then that is what we always do. 

At least till the next Netflix show:

Talk, rant, rage online

Vow not in my country, not in my time. 

Sure, so believable. 

Proven track record, so credible. 

What was the name again? 

Something, something... I must/do disdain. 

Oh well! Some other day

Today we chill. Tomorrow we find a way. 

Take a deep breath, have chai and pakodas

Mama makes them for us helpless bachchas.

#Hathras #Patriarchy #Caste #WahWahGandhigiri

- Written on 2 October 2020

- Self-explanatory. Google the first three hashtags, if needed. 

The Farce of Examination

The Govt issues a circular

On the eve of 8 September. 

Says in the order

Make 250 MCQs per paper. 

TY and MA exams to be conducted

50 marks in 1 hour to be attempted.

But we need extra to distribute

Model paper, ATKT, The Exam and a spare to boot.

By 15 September submit or be warned

There will be consequences that your career will harm.

Oh! And make them easy and relevant

We do not want to perturb the student.

A sample: 'In which play did Lady Macbeth appear?' 

Options: (a) Othello (b) Macbeth (c) Richard III (d) King Lear

The students studied just the one play by Shakespeare

And this is the farce we must contrive to 'pioneer'.

All teachers in a tizzy,

They teach more than 1 paper you see.

The deadline 15 September. 

Who is being really tested, they ponder. 

Viva creativity in plagiarism:

WhatsApp groups chime in staccato rhythm. 

Different cluster teachers share questions

Pacts of exchange that defy ethics of this profession.

But needs must, 

The deadline, the format, everything is a bust.

The examination will earn revenue for digital exam bodies

But will learning be furthered? Teachers feel further disembodied.

-Written on 11 September 2020.

- In response to an insane circular and the shenanigans it had led to. 

Painting-Poesy #13 - Happy Ganesh Chathurthi 2020

Vinayagara, Vignaharta, Vigneshwara! 

इस साल क्या कोई नहीं सहारा? 

Forlorn, locked in homes, we celebrate. 

Deserted, fewer Pandals operate. 

But Ganesh Chathurthi requires not crowds

This festival that all negativity fouls.

Defeated, ignorance, ill-will, selfishness skulk away.

On you, for the triumph of goodness, we shower praise.

Today in silos and not temples is this happening, 

We need no symbols for thoughts enriching.

Families meet digitally or not. 

Shops sell less, the economy falls.

Jobless more now, more homeless too

Many more victims of domestic abuse.

Health still stutters, infrastructure still moans. 

And it is tough to meet education's goals.

The world almost standing still,

Locked in, but so united in will.

Masks, earlier a danger, today a safeguard,

Health earlier ignored, today the stalwart.

Never thought the day would come, 

When the world would be largely one. 

It has been months, lord, 152 days or so, 

Many to save, there is still much to do.

The lesson learnt is humanity's core:

It is caring for others that is the stuff of lores. 

Not all are an equally privileged lot. 

We must share more of what we have got. 

Together we rise. We have a choice:

Continue to die or adapt to thrive.

The story of your broken tusk,

Teaches us that what is needed, do we must.

Wish us all the wisdom represented by Ganapati.

Happy Ganesh Chathurthi, 2020!

- Written on 22 August 2020.

- Self-explanatory. This day is Ganesh Chathurthi! 

- The painting is an old one. Was on the wall of my bedroom (I think my mother allowed me to paint every inch of that room's wall in college, because we would leave and before the next Indian Oil employee came to reside in the company quarters this would get painted over. She only had to tolerate this for a few months. I took pictures of some of the wall art and we did not develop the film for 1 year 🤣 How much more Indian Kodak family can you get? 😜😂😂😂) 

I still can remember many of them and while the pictures are bad in most cases (this was salvagable), the memories of painting of smelling it on the wall, of the brush strokes as I almost thoughtlessly painted, of the the chaos of multiple ideas that was my room from scenery to what not, remains embedded deeply in my memories.) 

#ganesha #ganeshchaturthi #COVID19India

The Headache

If I could drill through my head, 

The pain might go away. 

If I could hammer at it, 

This pain might, my head, escape

The eyes can't see clearly. 

The brain can't think lucidly. 

The visions and the thoughts are off-sync. 

It is like falling off a deep abyss' brink.

I beat my head against the wall.

The vibrations only make my head even more throb.

Sleep is elusive, cannily in hiding. 

Even lying down is too much effort, I'd rather be dying.

The head aches constantly. 

The breath comes in shallowly. 

The meds may work gradually,

But, right now, the future mocks unabashedly.

- Written on 10 August 2020.

- Well, it has been a long bout and seems like there are more miles to travel to recovery. The headache continues to be dreadful. It is one long flow with some ebbs, thankfully. 

Indians' Suicide Pact with English Pronunciation

Have you ever lost someone to suicide? In a country with one of the highest incidences of suicide, it is inevitable that we personally know someone who thought that death was the only option left.

Well, I have. Both in my family and student communities. It hurts. It takes a piece of your soul, or it feels like that at that time, but I do think it helps you grow more aware, more sensitive and strangely more outspoken than ever before. If you have ever been on a suicide watch, you would know what I mean.

I get the reason why someone might be driven to suicide. And I do not mean clinical depression. That is another topic altogether and it needs to be addressed, but by better-qualified people than me. I know, because I know people who have been, who are battling this disease. And it is a disease, not a state of mind or a matter of grit. Anyway, enough said. Another day, perhaps.

As I was saying, I have lost people I know to suicide. As an English language teacher teaching college students, often first-generation learners or kids who have switched from the vernacular medium to the English one just that year for the first time or were in a so-called English medium school, but were taught in primarily the local dialect; as a corporate trainer training young and old professionals who felt diminished because they did not know English, as a teaching aide in underprivileged, underserved areas helping either social workers or children or adults who felt brushed aside just because they could not communicate in English; as a human being with the tools of trade that granted me access to the inner circles of power (not the innermost, but at least a segment of it) because my English was considered good enough that I became worthy because I could wield this tool, I have been becoming increasingly aghast at how far we still have to go.

I have had several webinars on English Language teaching these past few weeks and consistently I have been asked "How do we improve pronunciation?" In a world so rid with illness, be that poverty or bigotry against women, Blacks or Dalits or migrants and so on, the question that haunts is not how to improve thinking, but how to improve spellings and pronunciation. Because the cosmetic is easier to change? Because the cosmetic is all that we can focus upon? Because the cosmetic is all that we care about? Because this illness of superficiality is more insidious, more virulent and more deeply infecting us than any strain of the coronavirus could be?

To get back to the thought I began with, this is why I have lost a few people, I won't take names and I won't give numbers. Because while I lost a few to quitting this world, I have lost a few to retiring from life, from hope. I still hope they may find in themselves a zest for living again, but for now, they have let the essence of them die. Their dreams. Their hopes. Their talents. Their personalities. Their feeling of being equal to anyone.

Why? Well, essentially because they could not wield English as a weapon to chisel people's perception of them as talented human beings of worth. So in colleges and offices and campaign fundraisers they were cast aside since they did not speak the lingo, not as the narrow-minded upper echelon understands English.

Have you ever tried thinking in a language alien to you? Or even not the one that you are primarily familiar with? Try expressing your thoughts in that language and just experience ideas vanish from your head as if they never were. Go back to that mother tongue that you seemingly know and try articulating complex thoughts of your profession in that language. Let's see you try. And then talk of how English can be easily learnt and that those who are complaining are just not trying hard enough.

Look at what I wrote above. I subsumed even the trauma of those individuals that I could not help and parlayed it into my own suffering of having to deal with their angst. Truly. And that is my point, very often we are so consumed with how people, things, events make us feel that we forget the greater meaning, the depth that underlies these interactions. Humanity. Thought. Not a mere tool for communication, one of many at that.

Indians are obsessed with pronunciation, but do we want to speak Nigerian English? No. Not even Australian. We only look to our former political colonisers, the British and our current capitalist colonisers, the Americans to speak the lingo of power. By the way, the pronunciations we want to emulate are located in the financial and political centres of power even within the nations of the UK and the US.

We do not want to think of how to improve meaning-making and aid critical literacy. We want to work on handwriting and pronunciation. And we wonder what is wrong with our education system and our society.

- Written on 27 June 2020

- Self-explanatory, but is triggered by Sushant Singh Rajput's death having some of us reminisce about the lives lost to the choice of suicide and today marking the anniversary of someone who had chosen this path.

Painting-Poesy #12 - Reflect

Deeply focus, reflect.
Deeply engage, resurrect.
No time though in between the frenzy
Of emails, meetings, deadlines crazy...
To look deep, to let the mind blank be,
To rethink, to reenvision, to then rewards reap.

Writing is tough, needs dedication.
Creating is tougher, needs relaxation.
Necessity may be the mother of invention,
But surely there needs to be time for contemplation.

Collective brainstorming is all good and welcome,
But when do we unwind and let the mind wildly jump?
In between work and household chores and family illnesses and technology problems,
How do we ensure creativity blossoms?

I am in the black and white stage, right now. 😭
#digitalart

- Written on 19 May 2020. Posted on Social Media on 20 May 2020.
- Artwork done on 19 April 2020.
- In reaction to a reply that said we must take a day off to answer EMails and another that averred that we will Deeply Think in our mid-week calls to a colleague sharing the following article!!!!!

https://www.livemint.com/mint-lounge/business-of-life/what-s-your-pick-staying-on-top-or-at-the-bottom-11589820636097.html

Painting-Poesy #11 - May Day

The mom story is best untold

Her tragedies better not unfold

Like the migrants, she is best unseen

Unheard, unspoken, just felt unknowingly.

She toils, her hopes she rarely uncoils

For often the world uncaringly them foils.

She gives even as she lies hungry,

She pays even as the privileged get more luxury.

Sleepless, homeless, stateless, nameless, 

Often past the use date discarded.

Oh! Stories of her are lovingly shared,

Her importance underlined threadbare. 

But nothing is really done to help her any, 

Not a vessel cleaned, no one else makes tea.

A thank you, a wonderful token

In her love all is forgiven.

But the migrant is not our mother,

Tolerance might not stretch for much longer.

Beware, learn, appreciate 

In actions not just words truly emancipate. 

Not the mother, not the migrant labourer 

They know how to care for the other. 

No. Emancipate yourself of self-absorption

Stop with the empty gestures and an odd token.

Live to ensure equality, not live off slavery. 

That will be Mother's Day and Labour Day victory.

#mothersday #migrants #MeTooMigrant

- Written on Sunday, 10 May 2020.

- Today is Mother's Day. Yesterday's headlines screamed of the callous disregard that migrants are met with. A sample https://mumbaimirror.indiatimes.com/coronavirus/news/sorry-we-have-run-out-of-all-words-today/articleshow/75638674.cms

Painting-Poesy #10: Flowers?!!

Roses scattered overhead
As millions plodded ahead
Hungry, thirsty for days
Filled with dread of even 1 positive case

No money to buy a seat on a bus or a train
India's coffers were not theirs to drain.
PM CARES! Yes indeed!
For showbiz and mockery!

And tear-filled drama some day will ensue
It is to lesser actors that this week we have bid adieu.
Corruption comes in all forms
A lack of heart, the refusal to see, the worst of all.

Classist India, not classy nor classic
What you sow today is tomorrow's arsenic
Shameful! Wasteful! Governments State and Central
Remember: Today's weak and meek will one day be powerful.

Liberty. Equality. Fraternity: The French Revolution
Swadeshi. Swarajya: India's Evolution.
Remember: It is mass, not class, that does a nation make
Remember and act before it is too late.


#FoodorFlowers #MedsOrFlowers #IndiaBleeding #IndiaWeeping #ClassistAttitudes #BestUseofArmyNOT

- Written on 3 May 2020.
- Today, India took the historically brave, the unparalelled sensitive decision to shower flowers from the skies, to thank frontline workers, roses mind you, and using Army jets at that, while lakhs of migrant workers had to pay 30% more than usual bus fares and sleeper train prices to go home.

Painting-Poesy #9: The Australian Bushfire

The screams I hear in my dreams
Through a curtain of orange dancing beams
Tortured animals seeking shelter
No respite. Mankind's blunder.

As we debate people's rights,
Trees and animals gasp their plight.
World over the climate change danger
Is shown escalating, but we just ponder.

'Now' is all we seem able to think about
Economics all we care about.
Stock exchanges soar as forests burn
Oh! Against nature what a drastic turn.

As 10,000 camels get shot in Australia,
So much coverage of Megxit to Canada.
This self-involvement of humanity
Has been the cause of many a calamity.

The world is burning, drowning, self-destructing.
But development metrics to money we keep linking.
Someone told me the other day "Why care who gets included or educated?
In a decade or so, we might ALL be anyway dead."


#ClimateChange #globalwarming #AustraliaBushfire

- Written on 11 Jan 2020.
- Self-explanatory

Privilege

Brutalised. Bloodied. She lies on the road.
"In death lies justice " is the crowd's roar.
"Her cries were ignored, her pain must be avenged,
Shoot them. Hang them. They must pay for their offence."

But some cry out otherwise
They are in turn reviled.
As enemies of women
As ruthless, as craven.

I wonder if justice always leads to peace.
Can revenge ever be to progress a key.
Fanon said of decolonisation
That it can't occur without violence.

But is that true?
The Rwanda story shows a different hue.
As for those protesting death sentence
They worry that then there will be less deterrence.

See, life is valued by those who have plenty,
Those who feel they have little to lose may be more freed
To commit crimes aplenty,
For death can't be revisited time-a-many.

Also then would girls and women come forward
To report family and friends of behaviour untoward
What about a woman raped by her husband
Will her trauma be ever subsumed by fear of this punishment?

Or does one think there are levels of rape?
That some can be forgiven, because, you see, PRIVILEGE.
That some people deserve it
That not actions, but persons and stations judgements merit.

I wonder...
What we value better,
The need for long-term reforms
Or a temporary feel good action acknowledgement?

This is not to say that those who suffered or are families and friends of those who suffered rape be sympathetic to abusers. This is a reflection on society as a whole and the value systems we seem to practice regardless of theories we spout.

- Written on 24 Jan 2020.
- Nirbhaya's killers were finally hanged to death. But...

Class Privilege

In our privileged homes with just our family
Even if they do drive us crazy,
Even as of lockdown travails we crib and moan,
The poor, the migrants yearn for home.

We tweet away #BharatPadheOnline
We promote #ArogyaSetu as our defence line!
As hungry and thirsty, millions fear
Losing their sole connection to those dear.

Are #Mobilephone companies even listening?
Are governments of the poor even caring?
No pay, no way. Will utilities be cut off?
Do we care if millions their slow death sob?

#MiddleClassPrivilege #UpperClassPrivilege #IndiaDoesNOTCare

- Written on 15 April 2020
- Reference: https://www.bloombergquint.com/coronavirus-outbreak/not-rs-500-indias-poor-need-at-least-rs-3000-a-month-george-mason-university-researchers 

Breakneck Pace during Lockdown

The breathless pace, a lack of space
Family aghast, peace frays.
The silence outside beckons
One dares not though for work summons.

Phone in one hand, plugged in earphones
One sweeps and mops as colleagues drone.
Carefully vessels are handled in the sink,
So the other side may not hear how insanity is on the brink.

No time to eat, food made in a hurry,
Forgotten in the rush is our legitimate worry,
Of how we fare as a society, as a human,
Whether we need change for redemption.

Deadline to deadline, call to meeting
We ever rush even knowing we are sinking,
Is the pandemonium over the pandemic worth it
Is this quest to find answers NOW the right fit?

What will happen if for a day or two or a month even
We do nothing organised and let our thoughts deepen
Would we reach a new realisation
Could there be another solution?

How will we ever know, if we never pause?
How will we ever grow if we still chase goals false?
But how do we dare to do nothing
When the world demands our everything?

- Written on 1 May 2020. Labour Day.
- Lockdown extended for another 15 days. Deadlines even more rushed and more work than ever piles on. 

Social Distancing

As I hear of millions of people walking miles across states,

as I hear of more and more cases of ostracism of health care professionals and delivery personnel and air line crew (all in societies with members who have earned degrees - I refuse to call this group educated -),

as I read more and more on some groups I belong to how unclean this other group (so many euphemisms for basic caste prejudice)  is in a situation completely wrought by a more privileged class,

as I hear the moans of those stuck at home who are wondering what to buy and how to buy when they would have enough food for at least three days to a week of survival,

as I hear the sorrowful exclamations of those losing money as the stockmarket plummets

and as I hear stories of how poor kids are cooped up and how poor parents are dealing with this

I sympathise A TEENY-WEENY bit.

For I hear the growls of stomachs hungry for days now trudging home on feet,

I hear the cries of children on streets unable to make ends meet

I hear the sniffles of parents whose families survived on pav and tea from the vendor

I hear the angst of the doctors and nurses grappling with dwindling supplies and worries for their own kin

I hear the delivery personnel needing to balance health and pay check be questioned for late delivery,

I hear the maids and drivers calling anxiously if their pay would be docked

I see the suffocation of 10 and more crammed in a 8 by 8 room with little to eat and no money to test

Stay Home! How wonderful! In a country with millions homeless.

Complete lockdown of hotels and such in a country with millions of migrants and poor who survive on buying food.

Complete lockdown of transport because the poor can die or they can walk, how cares a jot.

No. No. Yes, Yes. We care. Absolutely.

In the meanwhile let's crib about internet speeds and organise 10 hour long calls for productivity.

For a revolution to happen, I think we need the middle class.

For that to happen, they must either be empathetic or SUFFER.

I have given up on empathy.

Maybe suffering will teach me

Less complacency, more proactiveness,
Less dramatic speech, more foresightedness.
Less (nothing) of building temples or mosques,
More of hospitals that care for people on the ground
Less (nothing) of SOPs to people with billions,
Immediate money transfer to Jan Dhan accounts,
Appropriating all statues, places of worship and such's money
Emptying the coffers of every single political party,
Every marketing campaign to thrice over contribute to environment and health
All of us stopping this crazy rush to accumulating wealth.


No milk for 3 days or seven
No food supplies even
Water scarcity, every drop would count
May be then we can finally, superficially understand
The suffering of millions (the majority), our true strength grand.

- Written on 26 March 2020
- Migrants dying of hunger during #LockdownWithoutPlan 

When books don't captivate..

Busy. Busy. Busy.
The mind an ever humming bee.
When so much noise is there
Can you to relax even bear?

For words flow best from paper in silence
Not world's mind you, but your quiesence
If there is inanity even disturbing the peace
Thoughts interfere. Reception does cease.

Mindless ramblings your mind sojourns
You wonder why words it shuns
But no more ideas can it take
No more, not to one more person can it relate.

So in this cacophony, let yourself be
Forgive yourself, don't feel guilty
And actively seek to yourself release
From the mundaneness that holds you in captivity.

Then words will come to you on paper and in dreams,
The novel, the poems, the drama will be all beams
That bathe you in their light,
That make you laugh and cry
Ecstasy too you see
Needs some calm, some peace.

- Written sometime ago.
- I had written these lines for a teacher who complained that she was unable to read anymore. I think it applies to us as well in these times of Corona.

Heed the Signs

The birds outside my window are still chirping
It is almost noon, but they are still out flying,
The noise from the daily bustle is missing
Nature's on display and it is heartening.

No one out and about is such a wonderful thing,
One hears the whisper of a butterfly's wings,
The squirrels pecking away, the crows cawing,
Listen, there is an orchestra unfolding.

We need more such days of unwinding,
May be that will lead to realising
No progress is worth this rush
Not if environment we crush.

Let's not forget the daily workers,
The sweepers, the chemists, the vendors,
The nurses and doctors, the transporters,
Let us make pay commensurate with labour.

Maids not coming makes one miserable,
So for her raise or leave no longer quibble.
Learning is important, not degree or money
Kanika Kapoor onwards stop celebrating idiocy.

All those foreign returned educated fools
Who would with paracetamol tricks temperatures cool,
Such selfishness proves you useless, spineless ignoramuses
Whose degree and money is not worth the paper printed.

Clang hands and pots and pans by all means
But also get them masks and other aids of hygiene,
Health can't be 1% of the GDP or your tax portfolio
Environment is more important than building statues or having the economy grow.

And every leader who said 'How can we?'
'What will happen to the economy?'
Well, now you know we can recover
Redefine at least now how we prosper.

Of humans we have 7 billion,
But Earth, we have just this one.
We need to think and act now, today
We need to commit to a slower, more rewarding pace.

Painted 22 Dec 2018

Photo Taken from Bedroom on 23 March 2020

#Janatacurfew #Coronavirus #Covid19 #Education #Progress #Nature #Health #environment #India

- Written on 22 March 2020.
- Self-explanatory.

Happy 2020!

Wish you and yours a wonderful 2020!

May this year be filled with 366 days of love and laughter.

For my annual verbal diarrhoea, read on :) or skip NOW 🤣🤣🤣

Oh 2019! What tumultuousness you brought
We are still with tensions fraught.

From the Amazon fire that raged
To Greta Thunberg's fierceness on stage
From Trump's extravagant self-indulgence
To all the year end divulgence.
From UK's Theresa May's exit
To Boris Johnson's ongoing Brexit.
From Hong Kong to Bolivia to Lebanon
Mass protests have the world over risen.

In India, Kalam had wished for his nation
To be everyone's preferred residential destination
To have us all proud of our leadership
Oh! How far we still are from his wish.

As a country we lead, certainly,
But in internet shutdowns and children going hungry.
While Kalam imagined equity and plenty
We spiral down and down to  divisive polity.

But despair not, there is hope yet.
The youth is here to protect
The constitution, the world even,
Nature and each fellow human.

Be it Greta or the youth of India
Focus is on action, not just posts on social media.
Yes, we could have spoken up sooner
For causes equally dearer.

But there is, at last, change in the air,
Knowledge with passion is often paired.
A new morality, pragmatic reality:
Votes have spoken for greenery and humanity.

Yes, we are far from Kalam's 2020.
But we have our own Humpy,
Sports has brought us much glory.
And though no longer Indian, we claim Abhijit Banerjee.

As Faiz, Ambedkar and Maulana Azad
Vie to be seen on many a placard,
We see a nation, the world, arise
We see leaders taken by surprise.

Be it New Zealand's or Kerala's bipartisan buy in
Of climate change laws or anti-discriminatory inclusion
We all have sung as loud as we could
"One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

2020 may you be kinder
Usher in a period saner and safer
Grant us all peace and wonder
Have us more united and wiser
Enable us together all prosper
May nature and humanity, both, you foster.

- Written on 31 December 2019.
- Self-explanatory to a large extent.
Humpy won the chess championship, Abhijit Banerjee and coterie the Nobel, mass protests the world across have shown the power of humanity, the NRC-CAA seemed like the last straw for many an Indian after Kashmir's internet shutdown since August 2019, Greta Thunberg was Times's Person of the Year for her activism, youth across the world are leading the way to change, from Kerala and New Zealand are united, the protests in India quote Faiz, Ambedkar and Azad (so do pro-CAA at times strangely), and I quoted U2 (which toured in India this 2019) "One life, you’ve got to do what you should."

We should and we will. Inquilab Zindabad!