Poem: I Can't Pretend

I can't pretend that
I did not see
Someone being murdered
With the ease of reaping paddy with sickles.

I can't pretend that
I did not hear
The blood being washed off,
Hands absolving themselves of blame.

I can't pretend that
I did not smell
The glee lurking in the air
As vote banks were looted.

I can't pretend that
I did not taste
The saltiness of beloved tears
That few saw in their race for power.

I can't pretend that
I did not feel
That my silence fuels
This politics of spilling blood.

---

My humble tribute to T.P Chandrasekharan, leader of RMP, who was hacked to death recently. I won't claim to understand political parties and their policies, but no one deserved a brutal end like that. This poem is also a promise to myself that I'll try to stop turning away the moment I hear 'politics' and make my voice heard against such atrocities.

Poem: It Rankles When...

It rankles when

They turn down your plea
For new poster colours
And say,
It's not as if you're the next Picasso.

It rankles when
They refuse to buy
A pair of binoculars
And say,
Who are you - the future Salim Ali?

It rankles when
They don't allow you
To use the computer
And say,
Don't act like you're the 21st century Chekhov.

It rankles when
They have no patience
For you playing the piano
And say,
You're not going to be Mozart; leave us alone.

It rankles when
They just don't realize that
We put our hearts in our art
And that
Words, ideas and birds don't wait, like time and tide.

---

This poem is dedicated to all those unlucky adults who are ignorant of the joy that we "amateurs" experience when we are involved in doing what we love, be it drawing, writing or singing. And also to the ones who don't understand that we might not be professionals or legends, but we're every bit dedicated as they are.