Wanton Flies

Unrestrained Capitalism;
A well oiled killing machine-
greased with peasant blood
built with blue collar sinew,

Vedanta's dispassionate gluttony-
Greed for bauxite, thirst for money
Who cares of the Dongria Kondh?
We’ve trampled over tribes many...

Capitalist state; corrupt ministers
feeding that hungry, unholy fire-
with my forests and my rivers
irking me further, fueling my ire

Maybe there's a reason the red flag flies;
the privileged are deaf- the poor divided
pushed to the corner, ignored and swatted like flies
enough tolerated; time to repay your dividend.

They won't feature in the news,
nobody cares about such views
without lots of capital backing
Be sure, nobody's going to be listening...

Sad; the privileged are hard of hearing
poor men tired, enough trying-
slogan chanting and mock voting...
"Time to turn tables, and aim guns!"

Before again the jungles get battle ready
before tribes are again erased;
unite in peace and passively resist we must
-and do our best, to prevent blood lust.

-Adi

Power Equation

A product of my education;
of a lost and misguided generation...
Five years of high school
and three years of college
between my head and good sense
there's now a broad wedge...

All that we learnt,
to no avail
conditioned minds-
destined to fail.

We're puppets to powers-
the puppet masters above us
Sitting in their chambers,
lined with money and soft leather
snorting on white crystals of 'high power'

Delusional whack jobs
in holy seats of power,
Dishing out laws and policy-
they all turn sour...

Conditioned to believe it's Democracy.
Faith in a system; a fallacy...
We elected fuckers who won't deliver,
we suffer now, but we won't forever...

A nation of poor citizens
ruled by a mob of jackals
a system of errors;
to be grabbed by the balls,

Take away the reins
from those 'chosen' few
We'll make them pay
they know its due.

what we need is a revolution,
and it ain't no simple solution;
unite together, scream in unison-
Bringing a change in the power equation!

-Adi

Life's not just about vitamin M

I close my eyes, to visualize
a foggy image; and then emotional tides...

ubiquitous poverty around me,
building a nation just on money

the laborer- he lives within sheets of tin,
his misfortune he connects to his pre-birth sin;

somewhere his brother, in a jungle far
places a claymore beneath black tar.

One let fate decide- driven away from home
one decided to fight back, and he wasn't alone.

My nation is of two people
my nation is of two paths,

one moves to the right; traveling at great speed
one is pushed to the left, while the State pays no heed;

As the rain on tin pitter patters
in the jungle a rifle cracks; and blood splatters!

The brother in the jungles is ecstatic and cries "Victory";
his nephew and niece make paper boats; hiding their misery

Towers of capitalism, flags of industry - in the city
The jungle goes from lush green to rouge-red; Maoism has no pity;

And while rain floods the city
blood puddles turn up in the jungle...

Two brothers; separated by what?
are we one nation, or two based on thought?

Both have issues, real and true

on the brink of civil war;
that day may not be too far,

while we annihilate the Maoist menace,
are we rebuilding? We should as penance...

Before it becomes an us versus them
spare them some kindness;
after all life's not just about vitamin M...

- Adi

Bloody Bigots

Bloody Bigots
Frenzied maggots
devouring my nation from within
these fanatic faggots.

Beef banning -
bad timing
grief and crying
will lead to blood boiling

to satisfy who?
those minority few
who meat do not chew
and refuse to take cue...

this being a nation of poor peasants
we don't expect rich presents,
them fanatic cross belts'
"Do you realize you're on thin ice,
which fast melts?"

Real issues unseen
eyewash for the high-
dish-wash for the unclean?
People lay dormant-
you rule from behind the scene-

Orchestrating riots.
Bloody Bigots
Frenzied maggots
devouring my nation from within
these fanatic fagots.

-Adi

How important is "i"?

We have our many stratified Indias… Rich/Poor, Liberal/fundamentalist, Urban/Rural etc etc. Now, even though urban India rakes in a lot of moolah, controls instruments of public opinion and chooses to believe they control the country; our ‘netas’ prefer to sing their songs to rural India.


Though many like to believe that urban Indians are better off in terms of awareness and are relatively more ”intelligent”; the truth is we are more caught up in our everyday mundane-ness and we probably have less time to contemplate over matters of national interest. Maybe the average politician will find it just as easy to hoodwink you and me (us urban Indians), but they chose rural India because they are larger in number and are probably more prone to hero-worship than us :).


But we have our issues too; considering the present dearth of charisma that haunts our politicians, any level of charm or new found ‘finesse’ seems to blind us. Be it an American/British accent, Italian (or any other awe inspiring…) heritage or spanking intellectual demeanor, if it’s new; we fall for it.


So why do we get influenced this easy? Why do we let TV channels con us into believing that anyone sitting on their panel is an expert? Why do choose to vote for a candidate even though we know his party at the centre is not going anywhere, or is leading us to a place we’d rather not visit? Why do we blindly swallow opinions? Why do we choose not to see both sides of issues? Why are we so prone to extremism? Why do we choose to seek out only our differences and not notice that the world sees us in one colour, whether we like it or not?


Maybe it’s because we unite only in the face of an India/Pakistan match, or when we are at war. Or maybe it’s because we don’t care anymore. Those of us who remember life in the 80’s and 90’s remember that we did have a lot of social interaction. Real interaction, most of which changed with the economy; post liberalisation… We gave up our social interaction for other “more meaningful” things. We scorned the 9 to 5 lifestyle; we embraced work-holism and decided to devote our lives to better material standards.


Soon, wave after wave of the worlds many social illnesses swept over us. Life revolved around one most important thing; something our art, theatre and film began focusing on, the ‘Self’. Individuality, it became the new favourite thing, “What about me?” we quipped. Individuality was the narrow window through which we escaped the world around us, and while we rushed through the window, we crushed our souls. We ceased to care. And here lies the root of our problems…


I neither denounce individualism, nor do I embrace it.


So, let me ask you this; when you look around you and see where the nation is headed to, are you happy? Probably you don’t care much cause you’re not going to be here anyway; or you’ve given up all hope of change, or do you think it’s high time we did something?

No, don’t worry; I’m not here to profit from your sense of duty and neither do I wish to ‘organize’ or ‘establish’ any political or pseudo political body. All I’m doing is asking you, when the time comes, will you act? Do you believe we can do something to change everything that’s happening around us? Do you think change is imminent, failing which we will simply rot?

It’s high time we came out of our cocoons of comfortable and mind numbing individualism and started thinking more about the people around us. And of course, the trees and dogs and everything else too…

What is Inquilab?

Is it the fire that rages in my heart?
Is it the burden on the old mans back,
Is it the plight of my land,
Is it the filled belly of our corrupt bourgeois
or the whimper of the deprived?

Maybe it is none of this; but then again, maybe it is all of this…

Inquilab is the boiling blood,
steaming through my veins,
Mocking me for doing nothing…

Inquilab is my conscience,
piercing through me every time I stray away,
and think of myself before the other,

Inquilab is my mind,
yearning for change,
yearning for a nation, where we can all live
Together in peace.

Inquilab is my call,
asking you to rise with me,
take us from here to our destiny,

Inquilab is a dream,
Inquilab is an endeavor,
Inquilab is a vision,
Inquilab is a promise,

Inquilab is a warning, to all our foes,
Inquilab is warning; be on your toes,
Inquilab is a challenge,
Inquilab is a teacher,

Under Inquilab we are one
Inquilab cannot be quelled,


Inquilab Zindabad.

Why NO to Congress …

Founded in 1885 by two British Civil Servants and a host of Indian Industrialists, the Indian National Congress did not start out to oppose British rule in India. Its first president Womesh Chandra Bannerjee was a clerk at W. P. Gillanders, Attorneys of the Calcutta Supreme Court… Along with Dadabhai Naoroji, Dinshaw Wacha, Surendranath Banerjee and Monomohun Ghose, the founding fathers of the Congress came together with one purpose, the acquisition of power, or as they would put it “obtaining a greater share in government for educated Indians…” (Read rich upper class). Backed by the likes of the Birla’s and the Bajaj’s this unquenchable thirst for power still runs in the Party. M.K. Gandhi’s thirst lead him to oust twice elected (1938 and 1939) party president Subhas Chandra Bose; What Nehru’s lust for power did to this nation, we all know… Indira Priyadarshini’s thirst for power coupled with her political strong-arming led her break away faction to be called The INC(I), while the original Congress party, was named a new party by the election commission(Congress party “O”; O for original)!!!


India, by virtue of its history and culture continues to worship its leaders to this day… But the only leaders in this nation to have been assassinated in modern times were of the Congress party; have you ever wondered WHY? Who made the initial hero out Bhindranwale? Who funded Prabhakaran in the LTTE’s infancy? It was simply Indira’s lack of foresight… One may not be wrong in saying, that Indira Gandhi was the nation’s biggest mistake.

The Congress party today is nothing more than the “baraat” party of the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty. (With the Assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, the party came back riding on the high wave of sympathy votes, and put in place PVN Rao as PM, but soon the party was left begging at the doors of Sonia Gandhi, Rajiv’s Italian widow…) Because without a Nehru-Gandhi at its helm, the party cannot stand, and neither can it hold its own, this is exactly what leads to the birth of Tamil Maanila Congress, Trinamool Congress and Nationalist Congress party… When true leaders within the congress cadre were not given their due, they were forced to form regional parties. No surprise that today the PM, Manmohan Singh calls these parties detrimental to the nation’s growth…

This is a party where Margaret Alva can’t speak out loud about seats being on sale, where young leaders like Pilot, Scindia and Jindal are given less importance than ‘Rahul baba’… where Sonia Madam pulls all the strings and where “Leaders” are actually puppets…

The Congress has from the beginning used mass propaganda to it’s benefit. From portraying itself as the party that gave India her independence; to abusing the name “Gandhi”… Throughout it’s history the Congress has downplayed the efforts of Bal Gangadhar Tilak, Subhas Chandra Bose and the likes of Bhagat Singh. Even when MK Gandhi adopted the idea of Swaraj, he refused to concede that the idea was Tilak’s, instead he called Gokhale his guru…

In a party started by the Industrialists, run by industrialists for the Industrialists, how can one expect a vision for India’s holistic growth?