Nirbhaya’s December – 24th, 25th, 26th – 2012


24th

 

 

Now the protestors have turned violent,

At Central Vista the battle lines are drawn.

Ten lathi charges have only ignited the flint,

The police now feels like the state’s pawn.

First, they are citizens, hang the uniform!

Then, they’re like khakhi slaves of Brit days,

And not allowed hard weapons in this case,

Plus the hat of traitor’s getting hot from warm.

Now the metro’s been shut down station after station,

But the protests centered in Delhi have seen migration,

To Lucknow, to Chennai, to Bangalore and elsewhere,

To Ranchi, to Rajkot, Bhavnagar . .Jamnagar . . everywhere . .

And its all happening, yes it is, in a biting December;

Finally the flames have flared from November’s ember.

 

 

The party closest to the protest is Aam Admi.

The token presence of others is to capitalize

On the situation like a fake theatre academy,

A_sholes who don’t have brains to realize,

That it is they and not just the rape that causes,

Our bile to rise and our blood to boil.

And we can die but never let them foil,

The momentum and guts, which finally arises.

Their exit will be in parts, like Sachin Tendulkar,

Whose retirement is turning graduated and granular.

Friend, we are grateful for your entertainment in cricket,

But a parliament seat is more serious than a free ticket.

If you have to continue somewhere, stick to the field,

From some real parliamentary potential, let the house yield.

 

 

Good and bad governance is indeed a far cry,

For right now there is NO governance at all.

With pendency rate on crimes on women so high:

Maharastra’s 91.5%, Modi’s Gujarat 93.5%; 96.3% in Didi’s

Bengal!

National average? 85%.  . . . no solace to Nirbhaya,

Who underwent her third surgery, the ventilator’s back,

More infection has spread. . . . But now revealed in the lack

Of judges and policemen in a mindnumbing play

Of numbers: 50% vacancies of judges in many courts . . .

Police vacancies: 4.20 lakhs (sanctioned: 20.8 khakhi clods)

But VIP security? In 2010, 16,788 avaricious souls bastioned

By 50,059 police personnel: 21,761 more than sanctioned!

Even the police must join protestors is my two-bit theorem,

Before their abuse becomes official as a parliamentary harem.

25th

 

 

The first few signs of panic are abundantly clear.

Besides shutting the metro to hamper movement,

Shinde’s comparison with Naxals, shows fear!

And shutting roads to India Gate is a recreant

Sign, alongwith the imposition of Section 144,

A section that attempts to stifle a mass protest.

But Shinde is not the only one to seriously jest.

Strangely with Ramdev, VK Singh took the (natch) floor,

But post the lodging of an FIR, mysteriously exited.

The PM did a TV address quaintly dumbwitted;

Sonia too now and then, muttered sweet nothings,

But Rahul’s absence shows he’s worth a farthing.

But now we know, what we thought we knew, we knew so less,

About these fellows – the sheer extent, of their shamelessness.

 

 

Nirbhaya’s internal bleeding has again started,

Her platelets and WBCs are artificially propped,

Her condition has worsened, and now scarted,

With surgeries, her vital organs have been lopped.

Yet there is hope, but that makes it more symbolic

Of our dying and synthetically propped state,

With its vitals gnawed and even shunned by pennates,

But still mistaking rotting innards for a simple colic.

Cops as usual, of any shitty state, are the first sacrifice:

Two ACPs in Delhi are ‘suspended’, how very wise.

This silly little punishment is for crimes quite massive,

Funny how stern government actions are so concessive.

And what if these shirkers get into ‘suspension’ habits,

Already we have too few of such ornamental spirits.

 

 

Virbhadra Singh and his wife Pratibha,

Are relieved to be acquitted of charges

Of corruption by a trial court. The Shimla

Brouhaha by Arun Jaitley, his disparages,

Now seem hollow and rather unfounded.

For the Delhi rising, are scores of companies

Deployed by the police, and let alone appease

Media, they’re raining down on them. A wounded

Media is a sure sign of scaling the next stage.

With citizenry and fourth estate on the same page;

Means the ruled and subjugated are on one side,

A matter of time when judiciary begins to split wide

The forced rulers and their grabbing moneyed bretheren,

For the age of bugles is passe, it’s an emergency siren.

26th

 

 

Shiela Dixit first tries to align smartly.

When that fails, she’s now resorts

To pointing people to Home Ministry,

To whom the police here reports.

She demands the police chief’s resignation,

With a self-righteous sense of diversionary

Tactics that insult our intelligence, with her dithery

Cached under theatrical, counterfeit indignation.

But now poor constable Tomar has died,

Trampled under protestors who even tried

To help him as he lay writhing in dealthly pain.

Nirbhaya’s better they say, but the situation’s insane,

For it often happens in events that make a revolution,

Innocent blood flows for duty-sake, and for despotic elution.

 

 

But they feel guilty about poor Tomar,

And that again is a point of stark difference

Between them and the political class’s demeanor,

Who deserted the police to mourn in silence.

Police Commissioner Neeraj Kumar

Was a pall-bearer who led the mourners,

But sadly no politico, opportunistic careeners

Wanted to be seen there, so stayed afar.

Naturally in the wake of ‘high-handedness’

That the police is accused of, it’s adroitness,

To park all blame on the khakhi underling;

Even Sonia chose to blame police functioning.

But what beats government this time is how the youth,

Minus political youth wings, have such incredible tooth.

 

 

BJP too has ducked under the table,

And has been busy with other matters,

That it deems more important like the fable

Of Karnataka that continues its chatters.

They’ve sacked thirty Yeddyruppa pals,

And he’s threatened to yank their pyjama,

By going to the governor – real or drama?

And we’re prepared for a round of accusals.

But they will have be submerged under bigger sin,

Of the ceaseless agitation that’s now in chagrin,

As an unnautural silence from the other side

Causes an inexplicable feeling like a riptide,

Like a checkmate of sorts, like something suspended,

Hopefully not, like an infant’s breath suddenly ended.

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