These are the things we could talk about
for instance; rising prices; inflation;
non-availability of food grains, things
we could build our theses upon; poor
children in the streets, hunger like acid
burning down their tongues, our country-
green fast disappearing, the morning sun
coming out from somewhere among the denuded trees
like love betrayed. Other things happened around us;
The cries of our women and children still fresh from
behind the cold walls
of partition. So much more.
The woods are lovely dark and deep.
But we would rather look away,
give a good to ransom, Quietly forget,
that bloody country with clipped wings
flying out of Nehru’s hands.