Exit polls on Gujarat and Himachal,
Predict a landslide for Modi in the former;
A scrape-through for Congress, just the needful
In the latter – did they fail to hammer?
In Maimed Mumbai, the Sena’s begun,
The process of shifting the memorial.
Rajya Sabha’s done with the quota ordeal,
But Lok Sabha promises much more fun,
But Sena’s shifting seems too good to be true,
And Mulayam must now have a trick or two,
To puncture the sails of Mayawati’s yatch,
With something dirtier than whatever she’s got.
These two desperately need numbers in 2014,
Given their life expectancy and CBI’s guillotine.
After trying to thoroughly botch up FDI retail,
Mamata beamed winningly at industry captains,
Assuring them that her government wouldn’t fail,
Even on land acquisition – the U-turn was at pains
To appear convincing, to the natural lie detectors,
The simple one we intuitively have for protection;
Yet, almost immune to its inevitable detection,
She continued to bullshit the money attracters.
But midway Pawan Munjal exited the meeting,
Saying he wouldn’t invest in Bengal, without seething.
A little bird says that he broached the FDI topic,
And Mamata’s response was rude and ectopic.
And so as usual she again achieved the exact opposite,
Of what she had set out to achieve – predictably quixotic.
Something intolerably mundane for Delhi
Happened again; and again shameless mention
Of it must be done, in the hope that finally
On some odd day, somehow, there’s ACTION.
A twenty-three old girl in a moving bus,
In pretty normal hours as normal can be,
Was gangraped by five bastards brutally;
Again, the holy police was far as Phoebus.
Stripping her, they then beat her brutally,
And threw her off the vehicle roughly.
Now after four hours of difficult surgery,
She’s on ventilator, and India’s angry.
Her intestines are ruptured, genitals injured,
And the thought crosses, where are the bastards.
Will they again first elude our fantastic police,
And then once caught, get off with ease.
An age of revolutionary change drops a hint,
When something detestable happens again,
Yet there’s outrage in this particular incident,
Which while it may appear to be germane,
It’s actually more on the causes, not the effect,
That is, not so much on the actual incident, but,
The eco system of its causes and the near abut,
And marks the beginning of a brand new sect,
Like the Delhi gangrape has fired up,
Common citizenry to audaciously flare up,
And do the things they never planned to do,
Surprised with their own resolve to seek their due,
But now breaching the dams of restraint, the hate
Gathers unled; and moves unherded, like a river in spate.
In Dirty Delhi, good and bad students,
Blocked really bad traffic real good.
The bad parliament sensing vote dents,
Demanded death penalty for the hood.
Good and bad options featured in debate:
How about chemical castration – women groups,
Sensitizing the police? – at such a time such jokes?
Or fast track courts? – Really? In this state?
Then some administrative brainwaves . . .
Better patrolling? Some GPS that saves . . .
Or listen. . . a database of public transport personnel.
But no mental health recourse is suggested on any TV panel,
As the root cause of a rapist’s psychiatric condition,
Two birds with one. . . .businessmen’s obsessive money
Two lonely princes had each other’s company.
Rahul showed Omar his constituency, Amethi,
Like Columbus unveiling a striking epiphany;
And Omar, like Vasco da Gama sighting a Hindu diety:
Panchayat Raj, Women’s empowerment. . .see see!
While Delhi was in rage, he was showing his toy,
To another of his kind, a poor rich boy,
While his mother was with the rape victim in Delhi.
Meanwhile the banking amendment bill got passed,
So the next session should see the insurance one cast.
But these mean nothing to the dying rape victim,
Or to multitudes of protestors, to who the dictum,
Is solely for the benefit of some gluttonous purveyor,
Who, with the onset of this new age, will be a debt repayer.
Oh yes, the age of revolutionary change
Is right around the corner, my two-bit nose
Can smell. The gangrape, a subconscious estrange
Is but a symbol of the fire that’s let loose.
Even Hazare was a bit of that, though
More proximate to one issue at hand,
And Kejriwal was a little closer with his stand,
But actually I can see there is much more.
We need an excuse to gather; a reason to burn
Down to ashes, desecrated insititutions, into an urn.
So at a moments notice, learning from ‘representatives’,
Choosing an emotive enough excuse to rally lesser natives,
Who swell to yank down the pillars of the parliament building,
Bringing its fanged denizens, down to a state of acquiescent
Nirbhaya – as they’ve named our fighter –
The motivating force for crores of people,
Now has her supporters gherao Shinde, the blighter,
And besiege the Rs 600 worth CM, despite her wheedle.
And then moving closer to the heart of the matter,
Thousands of students and citizens on their own accord,
Are moving like a swelling sea, north north north,
Till by the Central Secretariat like a gargantuan ratter,
Have put horror into the souls of their tormentors,
Who begin fearfully with waters canons as augmentors,
Of temporary safety from the open jaws of enraged masses,
Who are now about to pare open their bloated a_ses.
Starting as a simple protest at India Gate, now it’s in full swing;
Just then the words ‘Save me. . .I want to live’ by Nirbhaya begin
Confusing the issue to be central to a rape,
Idiotically the powers that be, do the usual
Tokenism on the incident, that’s a chape
Of a scabbard that lurks, spoiling for a duel.
Then tokenism done, like good protocol,
They return to man their old shop of deceit.
Behind its weatherproof walls they miss the heat
Outside, now coming to a boil like singing creosol.
In the middle of all this, in Hyderbad a five year old,
Is kidnapped and raped; (the deterrant theory oversold?)
In Gujarat, a TV channel is advised against putting up a giant
For results, as it may get damaged, if BJP’s not favorably seen!
And then news that SP plans to ‘use’ (to protest quota bill) Dalits.
A purchased protest by imposed leaders (unlike Nirbhaya’s), by