(musings on a sunny winter morning)
What does one do in Shillong, but observe,
Fancy people walking on stilts of insecurity.
Poor people justifying their fate as victims.
Never mind a Dylanesque aura about this town,
Which is so fake.
Never mind the so called Christian culture,
Which is so adopted.
Like sheep they walk by, dragging you down.
Heads down so you don’t offend anyone,
Heads down so they continue to step on you,
Heads down because we gave them entitlement,
Heads down because they are thieves and they are older,
Heads down because you need a job,
Heads down because the government knows it all,
Heads down to all the sirs and the madams,
Heads down to the old perverts and pillars of society,
Heads down to the old hags and their judgments,
Heads up ! For that Beatles cover,
Heads down and pretend that we are cool,
Heads down to the lazy people in chairs,
Heads down to the unemployed hypocrites,
Heads down to the intellectual cunts, bickering to win arguments,
as useful as condoms used.
Heads down to the greed and the jealousy,
Heads up for some central funding.
Heads down to the beggars who rule us.
Shillong, your beautiful landscape, hurt by the people who claim to own you.
One day the humans will all be dead, and your forests will grow, and your streams will be clean and your air will be fresh again.