These sonnets (each with the same fixed rhyming scheme) cover:
what India (us and the political class) was doing
when Nirbhaya (who symbolized the apathy of politicos) was dying.
To her memory. And to our awakening.
Let us continue our fight for a 2nd azaadi with the same verve.
( the links are clickable; so read about our representatives before 2014! )
An appeasing bureaucrat commits a blunder.
RK Singh, Union Home Secretary is all alone,
In his praise for the police’s ‘outstanding’ job
In cracking the matter. A callow effort to atone,
Or allay the passions on the streets are blasted,
For his odd understanding of the mood in the city,
Where now, on Nirbhaya, an escalated worry
Of infection looms though the ventilator’s egested.
But action has inched in another shameful mantel.
In telecom, charge sheeted are Vodafone and Airtel
And the telecom secretary then Shyamal Ghosh, when
Pramod Mahajan was Minister and 846 crores was writhen,
Compared to which, Kalmadi’s 90 crore is one helluva shame,
For the kind of age we live in and with the kind of needs insane.
Scamashtra’s self-righteous patriots have awoken,
With the twin aphrodisiacs of nation and state.
This time the cocktail of the two has spoken,
From Manohar Joshi’s mouth with traditional hate,
Warning openly that the Sena would surely disrupt,
Cricket matches with Pak in Mumbai and elsewhere
In the state, because only friends play cricket anywhere;
And then his Modi-for-Prime Minister pitch is abrupt.
Perhaps the love for Modi is directly proportional,
To hate for Muslims and if made flagrantly institutional,
It blossoms infinitely. But government seems determined
To show there is no blind love for Walmart, and if they sinned,
Will be probed by the retired judge in thirty days, and the terms
Are being broadened to include naming beneficiaries and chums.
Her lab reports are disturbing even though
She’s off ventilator. And the police has nabbed
The six accused finally, including a minor who
Will doubtless pose complications that dab
With the law for minors, in a nation where
Men can remain children for very long,
Sometimes till when their parents are gone,
And even their sisters have delivered with flair.
Now though his dong can put an adult to shame,
And enough to earn his family a rapist’s infame,
He’ll be cradled instead of being whipped in jail.
At such times the fact that the law can colossally fail,
Is yet another evidence that how stupidly this nation,
Has figured its own utterly misshapen blundering creation.
Three sonnets covering each day of the Nirbhaya period will be posted everyday. Follow them here on ‘WordPress’ on http://www.nirbhayasindia.com or through my twitter account: @nirbhayasindia