Tuesday, May 16, 2006

Fuel to the fire

A few days ago
It was all quiet and calm
Just a few stray bullets
Causing no harm

Then this fat old man
He threw his hat in the ring
This he thought
To him would fame bring

So he went to the people
And spoke with passion
To inflame and excite
The heart of the nation

They need it he said
No they don't said we
He went red in the face
As if stung by a bee

And slowly from the smoke
The fire emerged
To protest and march
The people converged

Yet there were some
Who "believed" in him
And the cause they "fought" for
Their cup filled to the brim

They too marched
To places random
For the man in charge
They had a memorandum

Where their train was headed
No one knew
It was a matter of faith
The coming of "hope" anew

Politics of vote-banks
And people in misery
We're talking of reservations
To control the treasury

Lining their pockets
From the first round of doles
The beneficiaries few
Sitting cozy like moles

Having dug their holes
In the soul of the land
Now they stick in their heads
Like ostriches in the sand

Fifty years past
They couldn't throw off the yoke
to bring about "change"
They wait for one man's "masterstroke"
.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

amazin

how muchtime does it take man ...
to write such a poem

;)

Shiva said...

Fantastic Poem Dude... i am sharing this by linking your blog..

Anonymous said...

brilliant dude.

Anonymous said...

I have come across loads of anti-reservation articles, write-ups, protests and so on...none so poetic! Good job!!