Moderator's Note: |
hi people,
This is a poem i wrote sometime back in a fit of anger.it is slightly r rated but should inform you people what it means to live in chennai today.srima's commen't sprompted me to post it.just a try and a bit amateurish.please dont mind i am an indian.i am like this only.
satish
civilized in a uncivilized world
At 5 in the morning sounds of the milkman banging the gate in the next compound
i cover my ears to shield myself and calm myself telling its just a guy doing his job
the banging goes on for about 5 minutes
i only wish i was banging that guy's head against the gate
cursing i get up brush,wash,******sip coffee and hit the road for my morning jog
darkness hiding my thoughts and perfect cover for peace of mind
i step on a lump of **** dog or homosapien **** only knows
walk scrape doing the moonwalk like michael jackson
trying to fool the world that is how i walk normally
i only wish i had a hot **************************************************from
christ i love dogs and nearly spend a thousand bucks feeding them every month
only wish they would never shit.
finish working out i return home bathe and get ready for work
and find my car has a flat.
****only knows why one gets a flat when one has to get to work in a hurry
change the tyre and hit the traffic and come upto the redlight
honk here,scrape there and lights change yellow and before it turns green
the whole world has left you standing and the guy stuck behind you
cuts around you and passes you mouthing something
words involving the way i have been born and to who i have been born to
sighing and with green lights in sight i start crawling
when a perfectly aimed mouthful of pan paraag lands on your bonnet from the window of a passing bus
muttering what the ****what the **** i strain to see what or who could have done something like that
and the lights have turned red and the guy from the car behind you is asking me
what the **** is your problem
i wish i could tell him that i got a ********************************************in the car
but i kind of point to the bonnet and say did you see that
and off he goes cursing and i know for sure that his curses involve my ancestors
i wish i had a flame thrower so that i could make tikkas of all those creeps
but well life goes on in the civilized city
and now you wonder why people turn vigilantes