Thursday, August 01, 2019

Woe to the day when I was handcuffed


Woe to the day when I was handcuffed

Sudden knock one fine  morning,
No no, it was not a fine morning,
But ill fated for me to be surrounded
By two  cops , me bewildered, taken
To the prison, not knowing, what for
 a mystery. My repeated pleas
 Went in vain. Suddenly I was given
An explanation that I was seen  in the
Midst of gangsters; Law taking its own law
What can I do.  I know pretty well that
Particular day I was away .
What a princely life, what  a  royal treatment
At home, surrounded by my thick blood relatives,
Now their voices and support could not reach them,
How  I went about writing poems and chatting with
My friends and seminars -a venue often in my diary.

Life – the real concept of life -where I know not!
Seclusion, away from society and gathering,
Inward thaw, nocturnal  round of beats,
No dice  nor gambling of lesser cadre,
No drinks not even movies- within four
Walls – a cell of self imprisonment.

No preacher nor any  holy priest
Rings  around   the talisman on
My hand;  these chains -are they my
Deadlock:  in my sleep when I am
Half awake, in my wakeful state,
My chanting of  The Bhagvat Gita
My mantra, my redemption and Solace.




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