Poem: Bangladesh 2007
I am not game to the cheap thrills
making its round as a ‘war on corruption’
nor do I applaud for military drills
and bids by soldiers and sanctimonious politicians
to rescue this beleaguered nation
from whatever ailed it –
ideas for good governance is never the exclusive purview
of the selected or ‘elected’ few,
democracy is only a pretension
a hangover from past dereliction
Our leaders of today and yesterday
or those of the yesterday of the day before
were all but conspirators
who hired Phensydyl soaked agitators
to ‘uphold’ their narrow ‘national cause’
political expediencies
led to dependency
needing only a handful
of men and women intermediaries
to grind this nation to a complete halt
organized mayhems and murders
walked hand in hand
with unseen power brokers
who all too often appeared
on a five minute news slot
their epic infamy on private TV
as straight faced innocent
save their fourteen annas of devilry
Bangladesh in Two Thousand and Seven
is in overdue labor pain,
the collective handiwork
of those that prefer keeping us in chains
fetters and shackles
the aborted freedom child promised to us
in the histrionic Seventy One
an unholy misnomer.
I seek no solace in people’s extermination
for words of Human Rights
are spoken on the dole of
rich nations donations
- nor am I a great one for national emancipation
but there is a lot to celebrate today
about incarcerations
of Prince and King wannabes
and Queens and sycophant servants
bunch of human feeding vultures
who lived on live Peacocks and dead Jaguars,
whose current fate will not bring in any remedy
but their sudden change of heart stands to mock
demands from ‘behind the locks’
the printed, binded words of gOD
that drunk with power they abjectly rejected
- is there yet time to put them on the dock
or severe with them forever?
The ‘rule of the law’ is said to be slightly flawed
and since there is a new V ahead of our VIP -
the VVIP will suckle on all the honey
while Queen bee is set for another round of ignominy
a deserved fate if we may
for the millions who languish in jails as even today
an atonement for ‘Sins’ of the innocent,
whose only crime was they were not born
either ‘looter rich’ nor a VVIP
and the double crime of being born in the Desh.
The disease of denying and lying continues unabated
and even though for a time, newspaper columns feed on our angst
with peep overviews on private lives
and ‘interrogation CD’s’ making its round
there nothing new
here for the bored Poet who knew
back in Nineteen Ninety Seven
that days were not too far away
for our nations salvation
little knowing that things would all sort itself out
in the blessed year
Two Thousand and Seven
is this true?
Doubts lingered on dates earlier in the year,
for I know that devoid from the latest calculations
are needs of the average citizens,
so ‘average’, that we deny them everything
in our ‘collective vision’,
and torture as you must in your obsession
your cynical minds with too many questions
let this go across loud and clear
that the cries for political sanity that you hear
turns a deaf ear to pangs of the poor
so please partake a closer look
that the eighty-six percent who toil the soil
are all set to disappear
- yet we do know for sure -
that the remaining fourteen percent
will eventually survive the humiliations of history
the legacy of impunity
of entrenched tyranny
Savagery….or is it the birth of a new Die-nasty?
In this illicit elites fight for the spoils,
call it your ‘own brand of democracy’,
sovereignty, polity – or whatever
and forget your minus twos, threes or hundredth plans,
(In ‘minus’ there is no subtraction,
but setting aside for future use
numbers that have possibilities of jumping back in
to make future numbers dangerously bleary and weary)
my calculator reads all of this will add up
to minus one hundred and twenty million
only subtract (not minus) the current honor gOD’s
who dictate your fragile destiny, how many?
Hundred and Twenty and not one more
the status quo remains shamelessly steady
or are there yet surprises in store?
I have heard many slogans that were far too shrill
and we all know there has been more than enough overkills,
yet its not for poets to offer meaningful solutions
for while my race has often seen above the pollution
of collective skullduggery indulged by politicians
it hurts that many in my lot
have excuses up their sleeves to fool the devil
by donning illegitimate cloaks
of intellectual pariahs,
and spare the measly rations that come
with mouthing civil society slogans,
of collaboration with newspapers Editors
who rubs shoulders
with puny hawkish ‘Stars’
as also their chameleon avatars –
the intelligence agencies,
together with the retired,
defunct and dysfunctional khakis -
I wonder if it’s yet time to draw an inactive list
of ‘active collaborators’ of the momentous year
Two thousand and Seven?
Above the din of it all
has anyone heard of demands
- to try anyone for media corruption?
Today’s collaborators will not ride the shotgun of mercy
as they did in Nineteen Seventy One
times they have changed far too mercilessly
and forgiveness (read amnesty) a bygone jargon
only if we will care to remember the thousands that perished
in fifteen years of thug-ocracy
in the veils of ‘somewhat secular’ and sometimes
mullah driven democracy
Fascist-ocracy today is the new buzzword
and lest we should fool ourselves again into
collective decline, let take this one long incline
also do not consider this your see-saw hate
that the ‘immunity syndrome’ is likely to reactivate
and cast a powerful blow to our national fate
making a thorough military and monetary route
of a kind we are yet unprepared
in real life or its many pretensions.
In as much as they care for our well being
our ‘friends’ across the seven seas will not applaud
for we are puppets tied to their never-ending knots
dancing merry tangos to rehashed music
to strains that keep changing every ten years
we will keep ourselves amused and in tethers
- for as long as we promise to fight the mullahs and
brutalize their children in the Madrasas
‘keep ‘em bombs exploding
and jihad slogans up and roaring’!
this is the best time in your life to feast
on fistful of the mighty dollasr
which smells a lot heavenly
than your decaying and worthless local currency
aLLAH lives a short distance away from Washington
in an air-conditioned condominium !
Bangladesh in Two Thousand and Seven
is a diseased corpse not yet set to rest
and times to resuscitate
is slowly slipping and sliding out to oblivion
a choice between Democracy
or is it Klepto-cracy vesus Honest-ocracy
is what we have been left with
- so brothers and sisters -
lets not make it a painful wait
power brokers are yet set to pilfer
whatever it is that we gained
or whatever we may have lost
over thirty-six tortuous year
Signing off there is no slogan worthy of our respect
than to DEMAND FREEDOM or
Be DAMMED..
Sunday, 22nd July, Niketon, Dhaka