Dial I for India

I couldn’t sleep

My mind

Hyper jacked

Seeing

India

Everyone struggling to stand up

Being ground down

By forces bigger than they can control

It seems

In one corner folks

We have the politicians

A sorrier breed you will not see

All corrupt. All greedy.

All not caring

about the one thing

they are supposed

to care about: India

In the next corner

We have the industrialists

And their Creative Accountants

Raping and plundering

In the third corner

We have the government babus

Lining their pockets

With the dross and dregs

Of inefficiency and incompetence

And last but not least

In the fourth corner

We have the religious cartel

That ancient band of misfits

Dressing up in holiness

Peddling authority

Using information asymmetry

To fill their coffers

Christians. Hindus. Muslims.

All the fuckin same

Priests.

Locking us out of the truth

Locking the gate to heaven

Neither do they enter

Nor do they allow those who would

A more evil bunch of bastards

You will not meet

Jesus wept.

Now I understand why.

And from deep within my heart

I can hear this rabid, hatred

Tearing out in a scream:

“My India, you motherfuckers!”

I stumbled and fell

Pounding my clenched fists

Into the sand

Dry empty sobs

The heat of the sun

Ripping into my mind

Leaving everything desert dry

I was too busy crying

To notice

The shadow which fell

Dark side of the sun

Come a calling

I couldn’t look up

Shitting bricks as they say

It asked me pleasantly

Quit your bitching yet?

I burped up some more hate

No, I snarled, I’ll see them withered to the ground first

It laughed

A musical tone that echoed across the dead veld

Shedding dew drops

Plants flowering where the dew kissed the ground

Relax da, it said

You are less than a 100 years old

The bones of Buddha are part of your dust

The wisdom of Vikramaditya flows in your rivers

The strength of Ashoka runs through your veins

You think some pissant soldiers of destitution

Can take away our pride?

And it played out before me

How it was all going to turn out

My breath caught in my throat

Shining Eyes brimmed

And thankfully,

Finally

Finally

I could cry

Real tears

Real joy

Real sorrow

Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours.

Richard Bach from the book Illusions