Poetic Uproar

When will charity end and justice begin?

Charity feeds me one day,

keeps me hungry 364.

You sanctify the Way things Are at my expense:

You feel content for one day’s giving while I starve 364.

I rather you burn your Crescent and Cross (*1)

and starve with me: Then you will see the tyranny of the Way things Are

and the Evil of your Charity:

Your charity presumes ownership of what you store for a rainy day

while I starve in poverty without a today or tomorrow.

Without Justice,

Charity is Satan’s cloak:

You presume to give what is not yours.

Foot Note 1: The reference to “You rather burn your Crescent and Cross” is not to be taken literally. Both Christianity and Islam are great religions. The purpose is to invite the reader to ponder on the hypocrisy of those who take the shell and abandon the spirit of their religion. To that extent it is to be taken literally.


Why accept

Crippling poverty?

Inhuman realities ?

A mortgage for 25

to own a house and abandon a home?

Why Patience in the face of  a hungry child

for promise of a change the child may not live to see?

We have submitted to the way things are

and given up our free will.

Our “happy ” lives have been scripted for us.

Illusions Under the Christmas Tree

When all is said and done

in the silence of Night a Voice Speaks:

All Meaning is Created,

Order Imposed:

In the company of millions

We will walk alone to Nothingness.

And if you be lucky

an Illusion of meaning and hope will accompany you to your end.

There is no Santa, Dear Child-

God, even a bigger Lie:

But this truth is not for You.

Never expect a gift beyond what you can create:

Find your gifts under the Christmas Tree.

Note: The poem should not be taken literally. I do “believe” in “God”. These are expressions of experience. I hope and pray that you find your gifts beyond what you yourself can create!

Let Me Dream (Poem by a 9 year old child)

I have a dream that my life will never have a conclusion;

That the wooden doors will never limit me;

That the doves will have a ceaseless flight.I have a dream!

I have a dream that the leaves of a tree will never drift away;

That the owl will never close it’s watchful eyes.

Someday I will realize that I am not in reality,

but until then,

Let me Dream.

Zaynab (9)


It’s a flower that has arms,

to have the hands that write such charms!

only goes by one name,

that should never be considered by shame.

It is a rose!

In such a flowery pose.

Never feeling alone,

always at home.

Peace shall follow thee,

and I shall grant them happiness,

for eternity!

Zaynab (9)

Happy Moments, Endings, Eternity & God!


I see the passage of time and a moment of moments lived and appreciated in hindsight!

I am not a child anymore. The boy became a man and a shadow of himself. I now understand my beloved grandmother (Maa): This is a world of endings! Everything in it  perishes except the Face of God!

The song by Jagjit Singh, Who Kagaz Ki Kashti, captures the nostalgia Audio:  01 Woh Kagaz Ki Kashti. English translation follows:

Do take my gold, and my fame, if you must
 You can have my youth if you so do will
 But do give me back my childhood showers
 My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

Do take my gold, and my fame, if you must

 You can have my youth if you so do will
 But do give me back my childhood showers
 My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

She, who, lived here as old as the road

She, whom we children, called granny
She, who wrapped fairies in sweet songs

She, whose wrinkles of years so many

 And who, try as much, could forget them
Her fresh long tales filling nights so tiny

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

 To walk out in the scorching heat
To larks and those jays and chasing butterflies

We’d marry our dolls and fight over it

 High in our swings jumping far from watchful eyes

And those little trinkets of copper and bark

 Those deep scarlet marks of broken bangles and cries

My little paper boat, the fresh rain’s thrill

To drag our feet over smooth high dunes

A castle here, a hillock there

 Our innocence filling every picture and tune
Our life of toys and dreams

In a world of joy, relations none did prune

Wasn’t it beautiful, that life of ours?

The 3rd Alternative- The Way to Happiness


This or that is not the option-

when the answer is this and that.

These days politics is focused on debt reduction at the expense of human dignity. This is the politics of old where a false dilemma is presented. The thinking has to be outside of the box. The problem is fat on the top, not the bottom. Eliminate the fat on the top and you have enough resources for investing in life.

For instance, It is time that our governments at all levels invest in cancer research and cure- if we can invest in war, we can invest in life. While I admire all the fundraising that is done for cancer, it should not be a private, individual affair, any more than building or maintaining highways! Let charity not be an excuse for abdication of a government responsibility. Thus, in my post Poetic Uproar I ask, “When will charity end and justice begin?”

Our economic paradigm is based on a false value- that the central purpose of economic activity is economic wealth. Change that, and you have the 3rd Alternative.