They say you can’t wrestle with the shadow.
Same with the shadowy ones.
A bull is let out scot-free. Period.
Half-naked godmen cheered by
chest thumping, threatening Pahilwan Bhakts.
A bearded man in robes blesses from the heaven.
Cow is the only mother we have now.
The rest of the females are free for the taking.
By definition, the bull is the male cow.
What did we get at the stroke of midnight
at forty-seven?
The news-walas are not asking
When girls cry molestation
Bhakts ask for evidence.
Bachaw, Bachaw is the cry of the sparrow
threatened by a Brahmastra
Who is talking about a tiny bird?
It’s the wrestlers at war?
Jangi Kusti at the Jantar Mantar.
This is not a fit competition,
The entire army has landed with a trap,
to catch the tiny sparrows.
In the corridors of Kashi,
in the Gangarati of Haridwar
will the sinner find redemption?
Will he keep company with
the swamy already in the cell?
Not long ago they were showered with flowers
Now they are demanding evidence of success,
The girl molested is not photo savvy.
No clicks of dicks, hence, there is no evidence.
Do not forget, once you enter the arena,
Fight you must, bite the dust you must
The woman power is in full force, to wrestle.
This doesn’t end here
Sengol’s drama continues
as the role changes
Sengol
the rod
becomes
the scourge
whipping
Crushing
Crunching
Crouching
Finally
Becoming
the crutch.
And god save the king.
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at editor@madrascourier.com.
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