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Kalachand of Karunamayee
“Rusty iron men who want to throttle me forever
With their lifeless hands
So I shall forget like them that I was once human …
Frightful iron men – petrified brains
I walk out alone to meet their countless legions.” – Yevgeny
Yevtushenko.
Couldn’t you choose to die
In your bed?
Instead
Here you lie
By this boulevard side
Put to everlasting sleep
By the crew of the omnibus you rode
In presence of co-passengers many
For protesting alone
For requesting to mind
The rules of the road
Not knowing in your naivety
Rules are for pedestrians only
Not for those highflying men.
You should have also known
Those who hold the steering
Have overriding rights.
Their manipulations failing
They have a right to be rude
And those fools who dispute this truth
Know the truth in no time
At the hands of the helmsmen of our time.
Not so naďve as you
Your co-passengers knew
The ways of this world
Because they are enlightened people
And progressive citizens all.
Instead of protesting they prostrate themselves,
They jostle in a melee
And vie with each other
Either to dodge the payment of fare
Or to enjoy something free
Congratulating themselves on their pluck
In securing seats
Against a lady or a child
Or someone who is weak
For they know to live
One has to fight
And only those who have might
And are clever
Are fit to survive.
They are no longer tied
By primitive ties
Sharing nobody’s burden
Caring only for their own ease.
They divert themselves by watching
Their heroes hunting
In organized packs
And hounding the dissenting few.
To warm up their manhood,
Otherwise limp,
They rub it against the rump of some hussy
Helplessly holding on to the overhead handrail,
Or they masturbate in their concupiscent minds
Mentally kneading the budding breasts
Of pubescent bodies.
The omnibus is speeding in omnivorous strides
We have jettisoned you
Before all of us are driven
To our damnation due.
– Kumud Biswas
March 29, 2003
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