Harihar Jha

I don’t know why?


I see a crying hungry child
My hands dip in a philosophical puzzle
What is hunger and what is pain?
What is body and what is a soul?

I see a woman being dragged by a sinner
My eyes searching for the answer.
Who is victim here and who is a culprit?
What is love and what is lust?

Live knives and crying dead bodies
In a communal riot
My ears only want to listen
Who is Hindu here and who is Muslim
Who are my own?
And the rest are aliens.

I don’t know why?
My ears, eyes and hands
Have turned into Mind
And where is my Mind?
Dancing like a puppet
To the tune of these cunning snake-charmers.

Poor Me!


Lured me to make like you
You snatched away my ‘self’
On excuse to lighten me
on my body you added shackles

Engrossed with relation in family
full of leaves and flowers
rootless as I was
You chose to give me power

To give me my own personality
Me nude tree at your request
With the lotion of Beauty-saloon
glued dummy flower on my breast

Veils after veils I was covered
by my Lord, the stone-age guy
You turned me into a bar-girl
For liberation, I couldn’t cry

You removed my clothes, layer after layer
For freedom I was keen
What a shame on tragic joy
you peeled off even my skin.


Promise


A crooked minister instead of hell
went to heaven he was desirous
Mistake in account of Karma
May be computer had a virus.

His hypocrisy got hidden
Charity visible as paint
The account gobbled in a way
The Minister looked like a saint

But what sort of heaven it is
teasing luxury so well
Burning fire around
Just like in the hell

Fraud, corruption as Minister
were all under his direction
He, innumerable promises
had broken after election

Bribery charges eleven
and broken promises million
virgins’ image moving around
Just to ‘promise’ heaven.


You are a bore darling!


You are a bore darling!

I throw on you beautiful colours of Holi
You tell me boring wavelength of these colours
My idiot Einstein!

What a wonderful occasion of Holi!
I throw a siring of colours
You lecture on ‘atmospheric pressure’

A bit of wood gathered by friends
Amid sacrad fire of Holi
Why don’t you keep with you
your ranting about ‘Save environment’
You are a bore darling!

I keep telling you
It is victory of truth over the evil
Holika blazed and Prahlad is saved
You bring fire-proof cloths in between
Bore, You are a bore darling!

What a beautiful dance of Radha-Krishna in Mathura
My bore darling!
You detail on excavation of Dwarka!


 


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