Kashmir: Holocaust Museum

August 17, 2016

What do the Kashmir Muslims want from the country?

We witness the abundant coffins of our Hindu brethrens

and valiant soldiers. But nation is cold to the departed souls.

Their records are kept in decorated museums.

Their belongings are kept in a concrete room

and fill the duties as a statesman.

What do you killers expect from us?

What do the Kashmir Muslims want from the country?


We were just doing our duties like normal humans.

But you made us an item of museum and files.

We are the children, grand children, great grand children;

of this soil. We are the veterans of this soil.

But now we are the sons and the daughters of fleeing fathers.

Lost everything, everyone! Standing on our pyres,

Collective grief converted us stones.

What do the Kashmir Muslims want from the country?


Hindus are tolerant,

Buddhists are tolerant,

Sikhs are tolerant,

Christians are tolerant,

But why are you so intolerant?

Jammu is peaceful, Laddakh is peaceful,

But why is Kashmir valley so intolerant?

What do the Kashmir Muslims want from the country?


Terror, riots, arson, loot, murder, stone pelting,

Bomb hurling, acid throwing, loot of police armories;

Are your favorite sports.

You need to be taught and reformed;

As secular, liberal, modern, tolerant;

Non-violent humans.

Live and let us live.

What do the Kashmir Muslims want from the country?





Constitutional Repression

June 12, 2016

Thou have repressed me, thou has repressed me,

No more, black pages,

Those have repressed us like withered leaves,

For almost sixty years, merit and poor;

Difficult even to breathe.


Cruel Book, I want to disown thou,

Praying thou to die before I had time——

Emotionless-heavy, a load full of borrowing,

Ghastly acts with no good one,

Big as thou writer’s statue.


And a head in the pious Ganga,

Where it showers blessings on the devotees,

In the holy waters descend from divine Gangotri,

I pray to respect my merit,

That was denied to me.


In Bihar, in Tamilnadu or anywhere;

Of caste wars, wars, wars,

But the name of the hate is common,

Multiculturalism and social justice;

The words most obscene.


Game of hate everywhere,

So never know where your

Roots and foot are uprooted,

The tongue jailed in the jaw,

Struck in an insult noose.


No right to express the pain,

Quotas, quotas,

Chewing me like slaughtering goat,

Began to talk like a goat,

Scared, I might be slaughtered.


The ideas of Delhi, the writing on the wall;

Are very clear and biased,

With my learned ancestors and my bizarre luck,

And my merit and my merit,

I may be a bit of goat.


Always scared of the writings,

With biased laws and draconian vies,

Not by a holy book,

But a book black and regressive;

This is democratic fascism.


The boot in the facade, the beast

Monster quotas to crush all voices,

You sit on the chair like a boss,

A crack in your jaw instead of your foot

But no less a demon, no less the black man.


Cut my cute pink heart in two,

I was a child when they killed me,

At twenty they almost killed me,

And could not get anything,

I thought even the bones would be crushed.


Secularism is communalism

And communalism is secularism,

Fair is foul and foul is fair,

Caste is socialism and socialism is caste;

There merit is curse.


But I was thrown into the fire,

And jammed me together with wire,

And then don’t know what to do.

I was made a clown by naves,

A book in black with a dangerous look.


I want to live, I want to live;

But this cruel nation is pushing me off the root,

No fine voices going to pay attention through,

The parasites are sucking my blood,

The cruel book is arming the suckers.


There’s a snake in your writings

And the nation never liked it,

Ignorant are dancing and stamping on merit,

They always knew, they were ignorant,

But no respite I’m through.



N.B.: This poem is a bitter satire on the caste and communal, reservation and

quotas in India in the name of secularism and social justice.  This is a

kind of racism envisaged in the constitution on India and validated by the judiciary. Due to this provision meritorious persons are denied their right and they are oppressed by the people of quota castes and religions.


Constitutional Racism  

June 12, 2016


Constitution then, leaving all other policy of human ideas,
Is an impartial equalizer of the humans.

But this is only on lifeless pages;
Any demand of equality is seen as an contempt,

And punishable offence.
For ages world has honoured knowledge’s infinite power.
But now knowledge is mocked and laughed down,

The makers of the constitution, — The guardians of justice,

Unfortunately, have been more dividing and repressing,
In this order of justice — a monstrous racism in reality.
For some, the only diversity between equality and inequality is votes.

Days out and days in we are killed by quotas—
Like symbols in artificial phrases? —
“Diversity,… Inclusion,…Equality,…Social justice,…

Secularism,…Affirmative action,…”
These are days I feel like non-existence in the cauldron of democracy.

I stand alone in the beautiful flower of false manifestos,

But I always been a victim of injustice,

Disruptive,…Caste-ist,…Anti-Social justice,…
With fervor that outdo the margins of my awareness.


With veins crying foul,
I am the weird patriot that grew too strong for the masses,

I am a vision, vision for a strong nation,
I am a spirit, – a blend of excellence nation would love to disregard;

My roots, won’t let me sit still, nor can be contained.
All the voices, rather than voicing their resistance

Over the oppression and slavery;
Remain mute and laugh on the cuffs,
Un-concerned by the oppressive weight
Of caste and religious privileges.
Politics and power greed,

Crush the merit and talent,
“Merit and talent is become waste energy of no to good use!”
And merit and talent fear the sound of their own voice.
No stage,…No platform,…No ladders…
Those make it impossible to for the merit to reach the stars,
Keep struggling to grab them, but low merit grab everything;

Beyond curriculum, beyond values, stand here, a symptom of sting and pain.

Still we enlighten the world and pour out our souls,
Illuminates the world with our radiant appeal.


Merit requires Arjun-like hard work and insight,
Today, look in the eyes of students- ignorance and fear,

If you try to enlighten them with knowledge,
One is bound to fail in shaping their genius—

As they are the creation of dark quotas.

Look in the eyes of those, victim of quota onslaught;

They have the same light that tamed the mighty empires,

And the Mount Everest…

Same twinkle that guided the Mahatma to freedom,

But the racial quota mischief has undone all.


Exists frustration and gloom; slaves of racial system,

We were meant to be equal, living across caste and religion—

And we are crushed by the counts of democracy,

A cruel method which shook the consciousness.

Are we not humans, waiting for the next dying star?

All work hard to go into space—looking into telescopes,

Every child has potential,

Discrimination is branding them as unwanted,

Denying them their rights,

While some continue take the fruits.


Law in no equalizer—

Rather, it is a killer of Indian Dream.

So wake up! Raise your voices, lift your heads,

Until patches of decimation are stitched.

Potential of every citizen must be honoured,

Non-quota classes have been treated as black sheep;

Absorbing every insult and no escape,
Together, can enthuse galaxies of excellence,

So wake up! Raise your voices, lift your heads,

Otherwise nation will be ‘ghastly statue of Frisco seal.’


N.B.: This poem is a bitter satire on the caste and communal, reservation and                               quotas in India in the name of secularism and social justice.  This is a kind of                    racism envisaged in the constitution on India and validated by the                                        judiciary. Due to this provision meritorious persons are denied their right and                  they are oppressed by the people of quota castes and religions.


Intoxicated Delhi

June 7, 2016

Even the bikes and autos are drunk and dancing
All the dirt and filth float down the Yamuna

What kind of city is this?
Those are demons in Delhi by Sunlight
And how the stink of garbage kill?
It is the true condition of the metropolis;
We ate in the little restaurant an hour ago
Under the dark fumes of inferno
There is no end to our pain and agony
The trees are not to be seen ant where
Clean river and roaring dams are never in reach,
Morning after morning the stink of garbage
Makes masses sickening
While leaders dance painlessly in Lutyens’ Delhi,
Intoxicated and conceited
Our aching and tired heads in the hot sun burn
We are like lifeless advertisements and votes;
For those who come to power,

No one can see the pain of Delhi
They just dance and play while we are fried.





June 4, 2016

Do not wait for time, you make it slow

It runs fast, when you are in late row

It is in deadly mode, when you are on sad route

Time is short for those happy and white,

Time never ends when you have sad breathe,

Time is never ending long when you are bored

And you have to kill Time.

Time is determined by you and God;

You died before time had time,

But some live even after the time.



Othello: Tale of Love and Suspicion

June 4, 2016

Play of conflict, designed as the play of love,

‘But our new heraldry is hand, not hearts,”

“Who steals my purse steals trash,”

Love and suspicion make it a tragedy of life, private;

But end leads to deaths and disaster.


Army Chief of Venetian Republic, Othello;

Iago and Cassio, serve as officer military, in State of Venice;

Intrigues make Othello a might tragedy,

Fatal sense of misunderstanding makes Othello a tragic hero,

Unflinching love for Desdemona made Othello a jealous lover.


A fabulous example of disaster follows-jealousy or credulity or simplicity;

Too deeply, Othello loves Desdemona but dazed so easily too.

“Thus credulous fools are caught:

And many worthy and chaste dames even thus,

All guiltless must reproach.”


Chance, unreason, Fate and accident are prime attributor,

Love passion of Desdemona is an accident,

Unsuspecting, Othello and Emilia, wife of Iago, surprise all;

Loss of Desdemona’s handkerchief, a minor loss became a major;

Poetic justice, replaced by a belief in chance.









Mightiest Pen

June 4, 2016

Embarked the pen with comedies and histories;

But switched the device and wrote,

Best ever tragedies including Hamlet, Othello;

King Lear, and Macbeth, the supreme works;

And ended with tragicomedies or romances.


Remained popular across the ages and borders;

Best known for Romeo and Juliet,

Richard III, and A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The Tempest, Twelfth Night;

Apart from some “lost years” in wilderness.


Wrote a book of sonnets hundred and fifty four,

Venus and Adonis was his most famous verse,

Gave three thousand words to language English,

Second most quoted works after the Bible,

Performed for Queen Elizabeth I and King James I.


Genius in him redesigned dramatic chronicles of Henry VI;

Surpassed the horrors of The Spanish Tragedies;

Adapted the farce of Plautus, in Comedy of Errors,

Left behind Green’s quixotic sentiments in The Two Gentlemen of Verona;

But the humble bard wrote, “I am weakfish speller.”


Bard and his play popular, globally;

Constantly adored the syllabi,

Studied, performed, translated, world over;

Established mighty Globe theatre, near River Thames;

His pen made the theatre in London, a name to be.



William Shakespeare: An Ageless Bard

June 4, 2016

Born on April 23, 1564;

Brought up and Baptized in Stratford-upon-Avon:

Father was a booming businessman,

And his mother was the lass of a landlord.


Was third of six offspring,

Two older sisters and three younger brothers,

Lived in a big abode on Henley Street,

And attended grammar school to learn poetry, history, Greek, and Latin.


Married Anne Hathaway at eighteen,

Eight year older to the bard,

Added three kids: Susanna,

And twins Hammet and Judith.


Ageless bard, playwright, and performer;

Bard of Avon penned plays thirty-eight,

Sonnets hundred fifty four,

And narrative poems two and verses.


Toiled and performed in London,

Amid 1585 and 1592,

Owned a theatre Lord Chamberlain’s Men,

Later known as the King’s Men.


Retired to Stratford-upon-Avon, yet again;

More or less in 1613, at the age forty nine;

Ageless pen and voice was silenced forever,

On 23 April, 1616, at the age 52.



Gentle Doctor Narang

March 26, 2016

No Rahul Gandhi,

No Kejriwal,

No Brinda Karat,

No Barkha Dutt,

Will visit him.


No secularist,

No communist,

No human right-ists,

No Islamist,

Will visit him.


No one crore,

No four plots,

No job to kin,

No soothing balm,

Will be given to him.


All the absurd theatre,

Of secularism, of multiculturalism,

Of tolerance-in-tolerance,

Of award wapsi, human rights,

Will not run their shows.


Why ????


He was no Akhlaq,

He was no Rohit,

He was no Kanhiyya,

He was no disruption-ist,

He was no vote bank.


He was a gentle Hindu doctor,

Playing cricket with his son,

Celebrating Indian victory,

Serving humanity,

Slayed was Doctor Pankaj Narang.




1-Doctor Pankaj Narang-was a doctor, murdered in New Delhi- India, by unauthorized

slum dweller patronized by politicians as a vote bank.

2- Akhlaq-was a resident of Dadri, UP, India killed in local feud but his family got very

fat relief package after his death.

3-Rohit-a student of HCU, Hyderabd, India, committed suicide. Secular and communist

politicians made a big issue of his death.

4- Kanhiyya Kumar-President of JNUSU New-Delhi, India recently is a controversy for

raising ant national slogans.




March 23, 2016

Souls of Lance Naik Hanamanthappa

And Lance Naik Hemraj

Lamenting and shedding tears,

Why we died? Why we died?


They wake up in the midnight,

Their voices can be heard from distance,

Just hear them. Just hear them.

Their voices can be heard at LOC and Siachen.


They heard the slogans of JNU,

A paradise for communist propagators

And lovers of Afzals and Maqbools,

But hardly thinking their own nation.


Hug and kiss are their cherished syllabus,

Beef and mutton parties in the dorms,

Burning of the Manusmriti, slur to Goddess Durga

Are their cultural fests.


Foreign repressor Lenin, Mao and Marx,

Are their Gods,

And worship Mahishasur with pride,

But no love for nation and martyrs.


In hostels and chambers,

Gather for fake revolutions,

On subsidized education and rooms,

But nation love this subsidized heaven.


Enjoying quotas and cashing backwardness,

Weaved a circle round so strong,

And close the eyes to enjoy backwardness,

For honey-milk are they fed.


Freedom to roam with secular butterflies,

Those sleep among the revolutionaries,

Souls of martyrs in their combat dress,

Seeking freedom to gun rogues in mortal dress,




1- J.N.U.: is a very famous University in India. Full name Jawahar Lal     University, situated in New Delhi, India.


2- JNU has been in news for wrong reasons, (a) for anti-national slogans. (b)

hailing terrorists like Afzal Guru and Maqbool Butt etc..(c) for insulting Hindu

Goddess Durga and celebrating the birthday of demon Mahishasur. (d) for

organizing  hug and kiss fests. (e) for burning the Manusmriti. (f) distributing

sweets on the massacre of soldiers.


3- Lance Naik Hanamanthappa ; is a soldier on Indian Army who died in a snow

avalanche at Siachen, defending Indian posts.


4- Lance Naik Hemraj ; Another Indian soldier who was kidnapped by Pakistanis

and he was very brutally murdered and his head was cut by them.


5- Afzal Guru and Maqbool Butt: Both terrorists and given capital punishments.




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