Love in the time of CCTV
“In my rear view mirror is the motherfucking law” Jay Z – 99 problems
The camera tells us.
Keep your hands where I can see them.
Write your love letter
License to Kill
Not a morsel of food down her throat
An act of protest against licenses to kill
Her periodic crimson stopped
To stop the crimson draining down the streets
Of her seven sisters.
A legless man
Of ideologues outside
The communist party headquarters.
Namdeo Dhassal’s Letter to a Young Poet
In your poems
Do not set your rhyme and meter
With the drum beats of populism.
You may build mansions in their shade
Where synthetic grass is cut to level
And flowers bloom in time for the next election season
With petals the teals of the incumbent flags.
Before your mansions crumble,
I want to send you
To the smithy of the blacksmith.
The unfettering of Sita
Damsel rescued from distress,
From the constrict of six yard garment
Legs coalesce into one.
Flew for the first time
Her dreams grew “Pushpaka” wings
On a two way ticket to
An island of forbidden pleasure
The strong black embrace of demon Ravana.
Stepping out of binders
Straying off the bloodline
To unleash an army of half-castes.