Were the weathermen right – a bright Monday?
But today, ‘monsoon here, rain alert’.
South West monsoon’s come all the way,
So it isn’t it confirms, just another spurt.
But here’s the newest set seeking the sun:
A self-righteous motley? Political prima donna?
An unbourgeois flirt called ‘Team Anna’?,
Averring graft charges on Pranab must be done.
Strange how tainted teams turn around and say,
In this shamelessly shining India of today.
How one insists the other must get the sack,
Is the proverbial pot calling the kettle black.
Sadly the Mahatama departed, but gladly left us to keep
Anachronous khaadi, delusive topis, and imitators cheap.
And now while it’s lovely to rhyme the rest,
But proud patriotism may well go to seed.
For in Swiss bank accounts India’s the best.
A doctor couple does female infanticide in Beed.
The ‘delayed retail reforms’ may happen afterall,
And two politicos may discuss airport work delay,
But an unlikely certificate comes our way:
In the eyes of the Taliban, India stands tall!
Funny how for the US, our heart seems to beat;
Suddenly insider trading’s rampant on Dalal street!
Yet little’s said on Saina winning Indonesian open,
For in Bandra now, the swine flu virus has spoken.
A blessed geography’s gone rapaciously wrong.
A nation independent, or was it always stillborn?
So now on the third fouteener of the day
It’s time for sprinkling some two-bit philosophy,
Plus an urgent urge to kneel down and pray,
For a riposte to this slutty blasphemy.
With so many heroes extolled here,
With incalculable gods to caretake us,
With boundless blessing, dizzying fuss,
Why we’re so fu_ked, is rather unclear.
Weren’t we told this dominion’s mighty,
A graven democracy and multi party;
Or was it only relative to penurious Pakistan,
The estranged twin we so love to darn?
Methinks we love repeats of rich doses of history.
Like teenagers privately seeking a murder mystery.