Tuesday, 19 October 2010


Driving herds
of donkeys and cattle
camels and men
driving them across the sameness
of India's northern landscape
To someplace they will never come back from
The look in the little boy's eyes says that
We pass him by
He probably heard three letters
in our very animated conversation
My uncle, with his fingers playing
on his touch screen phone
Was seeing GDP probably embossed in gold
on that dusty road
He was screaming, trying to convince me
We have progressed
As I remembered my dad lying in the ICU of a government hospital
It's corridors jammed with what might have been humans once
Yes, I hear you uncle
I believe your hysteria
I just wonder
what did that little boy think of what he heard
Maybe he will stroll into a Dusshera Mela
and ask for GDP at the candy store
I believe it's the new softy flavour
He might add.

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