Black was a thief
Who stole anything
Between pots and clothes.
Son of a pundit,
He became a thief and
Humiliated the Brahmins.
I didn't want to be a thief,
But we were friends,
Black and I.
All hated him,
But he surprised me
With his other colors.
We fell in love
With the same woman,
Who loved him over me.
I spat venom
When Black walked passed me
With her in his arms,
Wearing my shirt
I couldn't find the other day
Sometime between noon and dusk.
Sad and defeated,
With vengeance nibbling on my heart,
I returned home late.
I found my shirt on the bed,
With a note from Black:
'Sorry! I'd to look clean for her.'
On a frozen January morning,
They found his body
Hanging from a tree.
'Now he has paid for her',
Said those who hated him, but I heard
Her tears saying, 'they killed him!'
I forgave him for the shirt and
His love for her,
And I still keep the shirt clean.
The world dims to a standstill in shouting
incoherencies the fluttering heart spew, clinching
on today through the vagaries of inertness,
and seeking liberty, he sings the song of
life.
Then the finality of death.
And Agni's dance.
The soul ascends from the smouldering
cinders gradually dying and strives for salvation
in aether, becoming one with the universe,
as the universe was always him.
Fifteen days of mourning. Eight opinions.
Five brahmins to feed.
Twelve pieces of jewelry to melt.
Fish to eat.
Dhoti to wear.
Lassi to drink.
Judgment to fear.
On the sixteenth day,
a completion is attained,
and things return to normalcy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 09 / 01 / 2017
Villanelle: The Dilemma of the Non-Violent – 11
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Much less Institutions Parties Power Groups
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
Kings tyrants prophets may under-estimate
The will of the People to upset their hopes
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Around rulers sycophants proliferate
Brahmins Mullahs Rabbis Mahatheros Popes
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
Intrigue owe allegiance inordinate
Find forgiveness for evil deeds lethal troops
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Rulers shared power with sp’ritual Prelate
Don’t religions all jockey like power groups
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
When the individual’s battered by the State
Turn not to Justice rather see dashed your hopes
How might one batter to death rogue Nation State
Motherland religion Peoples’ opiate
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Cleansing of body and mind- the Indian Way- An Alouette
For any Hindu
Bathing in Sindhu
Or Ganga thought to be pure
On fetes, on deaths
Tilak on foreheads
To meditate for mind’s cure
Indian Brahmins
In temple domains
Recite mantras while bathing
Then a marjanam
Followed by japam
Trikal Sandhya with chanting
============================
Sindhu and Ganga – the names of rivers of India
Marjanam means- Sprinking water around to purify the place.
Japam means - chanting of the Goddess Gayatri Mantras
Trikal Sandhya means- Tri means three times. Kal means time and Sandhya meaning
controlling the breathe as we do in Yoga.
Sandhya means- meaning “UNION” of day and night dawn and dusk, noon is considered
the third juncture of the day, and hence meditations and prayers are performed daily three
times.
**The Alouette was created by Jan Turner.
It consists of two or more stanzas of 6 lines each, with the following set rules:
Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7
Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b
Alouette means a "skylark"
The form is not available on PS
Limerick: Once a Meat-Vendor in Mylapur
Once a Meat-Vendor in Mylapur*
Set up shop (O!) Brahmin virtue pure
No hungry customers
Knocked past the front shutters
Though brisk business raged at rear door.
• Brahmin enclave in Chennai, Tamil-Nadu, India.
Brahmins were not vegetarians from antiquity.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Temple – not an abode of God
Idol – only a piece made by man
To see his reflection in ruse of worship
The Powerful can see power
The Rich can see riches
Poor see poverty
The more one donates, the more he gets
The more one pleads and cries, Grief is all he gets
Rich can sit in front of the Lord
Others will queue in
The rest will scramble for the leftovers
Rich need the temples
To keep the poor content with poverty
Ain’t we a poor country of rich people?
Or are we a rich country of poor people!
Questions lay unanswered, Treasures lie hidden
The Hungry stay naked in open.
Some fast for glory, many die of hunger
This is the order of the day, dear folks
The powerful are the Brahmins
The rich are the Vaishyas
The middle class are the Kshatriyas
To defend or aspire for power or riches
The rest are the Shudras
based on the Varna system in India and the new order
... Suresh M Iyer
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