The Lost Sheep and their Shepherd

Activism advances
on the carriage of change
amidst colour blindness
a battalion of buffoons
play hide and seek
as per impersonated instructions.
Cocks crow through lurid loudspeakers
candle clay drips in convulsion
as the youth proclaim a parrot's polly
reciting verses in eruptive excitement
and follow as a flock of frozen fossils
behind an ambitious autocrat,
who they have christened as Messiah
or a fairy God mother with a magic wand.

Unmindful of implications that
vilifies their vulnerability
impeaching democracy as a drab,
they launch a leap, thousands of lost sheep,
the wind blows in the westward wilderness
requiring revolution in reckless rooting
they want to cry through corrosion
but how many of them actually know
that they themselves are the rusted relics
of a rotten resolution?

© Rinzu Rajan

Will Someone Spare Anna Hazare a Copy of Don Quixote by Cervantes?---------------------------------------------------------------------
Rinzu Rajan writes in an attempt to sear away from the boundaries of cliché. Research in the field of biology and feminist activism occupy the rest of her time and devotion.

White Phosphorous

(A poem dedicated to Anna Hazare)

He led a battalion of hearts
taught them to beat as one
like the rhythm of the feet
of a million soldiers marching

His smile was their shield
His hunger strike their ammunition
His patriotism their zeal
His thoughts their direction

Strange it was to see a white bird of peace
Yell blood curling calls of Vande Mataram! 1
a clarion call for every Indian to saddle up
and blow amphibian corruption to smithereens

He sowed seeds of rightful participation
that grew into trees the very next day
trees that spewed fire not shade, assault not glade
on the immoral, unethical enemy brigade

Every kilo he lost was a shrapnel
searching and destroying the foe
his bayonet of truth made injustice thin
a waning, weakening spurious din

He was a seismic intruder
who stopped time in its track
a moral gunner, a quiet runner
with only word-grenades for attack

Now he is in every schoolboy’s satchel
every old man’s dream
he is sacrifice personified
he is a lighthouse in our times grim

He is white phosphorous
to the fraudulent and corrupt
burning malpractices, scalding dishonesty
exposing a malady to its very bones.

1.       A Sanskrit phrase meaning I salute my motherland!

© Vinita Agrawal

Note : when white phosphorous hits the skin of any living creature it burns it and continues to burn it until it has burned through the body. Water will not extinguish it.

Anna Hazare slams Chavan, says fighting elections not enough
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Vinita Agrawal is a freelance writer, researcher and poet from New Delhi, India and has been published many times in print and online journals.