Desecration of Idols of the Past Leaders
The idols of the past national leaders
are dumped into the sacks of their castes.
The boys fed with the dirt of castes
go in vans as pilgrims to worship the statues
with oodles of choppers, daggers and rods.
The cops stand in day and night to protect
the people of one caste from the the other.
At times they face the onslaughts of the mob
which takes law unto their hands
even to kill the guardians of law and order
and fill the land with fear and angst.
If they go on pilgrimage with kin and children
to offer their prayers to their idols,
not only on their days of birth and death
but also on all the days of the year
with goats and cocks to slit, cook and eat,
these idols will become gods in future
and all the castes will worship with piety.
Newly sprung-up leaders whip the boys up
to harm the people of weak castes and the cops
and smear the faces of the idols with filth
and garland with worn-out slippers.
Who roused these unruly gangs to set on fire
the huts of the suppressed classes
and rob the valuables they earned in a decade
by toiling in the boiling sun or guarding our borders?
The youths of the insecure castes
should not misuse the special ‘Acts'
to blockmail the teachers and leaders
and kidnap the girls of other castes to rape
and then set them against their own parents.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Kangaroo Court
Kangaroo Court
When he reads news of
Kangaroo Courts held
in some places where the brutes live,
for enquiring fishy incidents like
petty thefts, eloping of girls with strangers,
knotty problems involving naughty youths,
love affairs between boys and girls
of different cates and religions,
and punishing the guilty
with insulting treatments,
he relives the painful moments,
he underwent in his sixteenth year,
prostrating several times
before the nitpickers of his village,
in a Kangaroo Court held in her house,
for responding with a few lines of love.
Boys of soft castes need be punished that way,
for saving them from being assaulted by the goons
of the violent castes of the girls.
When the Britishers ruled India,
castes were relegated to the background
but in the free country, the politicians with verve,
had brought it to the foreground.
----------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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September Villanelle
SEPTEMBER VILLANELLE
September invokes something special in my ancient country
No 'Fall' here, no amber leaves, upon her crowded earth
Her billion people stand united, share the Indian psyche
Post monsoon, the land is a lush green mostly
Amid her crowded cities, one feels the warmth of her burning hearth
September invokes something special in my ancient country
In this land of a thousand festivals, one stands primary
It's the worship of Lord Ganesha, the elephant God of divine birth
Her billion people stand united, share the Indian psyche
The son of Shiva is worshipped by all with glee
Massive idols of Ganesha smile and spread the mirth
September invokes something special in my ancient country
India has cultures, religions and castes aplenty
Open to all festivals; of a free spirit no dearth
Her billion people stand united, share the Indian psyche
Yet, September brings with it sorrow too, the fall of the towers in NY City
The fallen unite in death the Earth's entire girth
September invokes something special in my ancient country
Her billion people stand united, share the Indian psyche
poem by Manjula Reddy
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The Caste Wars
The violence by some wild castes rock
and give the insecure a rude shock.
Ban the names of caste.
Mankind alone should last.
Save the poor by the secular bulwark.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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God is there!
A Philistine killed my brother,
a buoyant youth doted upon
by all the castes of my village.
The recreant bullied a woman
who usually sells pickle and drinks
calling my elder, “ Son, my Son! ”
to pump potion to his heart
that cried often, “Mother, Mother! ”,
though she was of that foe’s caste.
When the post of Temple Trustee
passed from him to my brother,
envy supplanted love in him
and he brewed my brother’s death.
The frail woman blared out soon
that her son was poisoned.
Power and pelf kept the villain
out of the bounds of the law.
I hated to visit my village
and reconciled to keeping calm.
I spent several sleepless nights
being weak to pay him out.
But famine soon parched our village.
People moved out with their bulls
seeking greener pastures.
The villain lost peace at home.
The shopkeepers downed their shutters
on seeing that soaker.
A sudden God-induced impulse
forced him to take a bottle
of insecticde from a shop by force.
He mixed it with newly distilled arrack
and with sparks of anger from his face
tossed the glass up
and emptied it in a gulp.
I was not disturbed in my dreams afterwards
by my restless brother’s ghost.
When people of all castes whispered:
“God is there to avenge
when the lawless lash at the lawful”,
I shed tears at the ways of God.
-------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The Gifted Men In Democracy
The gifted are not lifted
to do the jobs in democracies;
as the people remain riven
into castes and religions.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Race in a Race
Absurd and upright races are held.
Rare birds and goring bulls thrill and maul.
The toddlers walk fast and the girls fly and dance.
There is race to buy in auction,
the high-performing cricketers
and a race to see nudity in the nets.
Bright chaps in medicine and engineering
race to join terror outfits, thanks to the tenets
they imbibe, and alarm the nation with weak laws.
The youth said to be suppressed so long
race to harass the girls of soft castes
and go in a mob to silence, any grumble.
The youth of these days know all trickery,
race to seat on the seats of power
and demand bribes in open in offices.
Hired gangs race to wield weapons,
kill in the premises of courts
and the cops and the courts book and let them free.
There is a race to encroach the vacant plots,
a race to snatch the sacred-chains
and a race to marry girls in plenty.
In what race you’re will make you
get entry into the hall of fame or shame.
See, they smile and hail walking towards the jail!
---------------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Creeds and castes, and all forms of intellectual and emotional grouping, belong to the past.
quote by Herbert Read
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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As the poet has expected, the alarms now are sounded, for - and it must be said again - the birth of a poet is always a threat to the existing cultural order, because he attempts to break through the circle of literary castes to reach the center.
quote by Salvatore Quasimodo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Indians Riven into Castes
A salvage team has pulled the beached ship
off the coast to sail 'way with fillip.
But who can tow these crowds
off the castes draped in shrouds?
To stone age, the youths 'gain make a trip.
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Curse of Caste
I
They came on bullock-carts
loaded with gods
Indra
Agni
Varuna
Rudra
traversed sinuous mountain ranges
rivers
gurgling outlandish tongues
their children caged as poultry
their priests chanting weird mantras
spells
charms
curses
hymns
drank the soma juice
choking with the sacrificial bleating
of rams
II
Agreed, all societies structure themselves
Out of scant need to function sans bother
Just as individuals must come together
In order better to protect themselves
All men are born equal, so say the Wise
But the Elders do not know how to stem
Rishis who would seek to mock them
By claiming they were twice-born to rise
Above all mankind for wasn't it the decreed omen
For the Primaeval Being that the self-chosen few
Should forever speak for the Brahman in lieu
Of Purusha's helpless eyes, brain, heart and abdomen
The only difference between the Brahmin
And the rest of the menial human race
Is that they were born with Brahma's grace
So that they could spurn the rest as vermin
Yet India's underside boasts of invisible millions
Who have no place in sacred Hymns of Man
They weren't created by Rig-Veda: only as Harijan
May they hang out in limbo as Gandhi's minions.
Resources
Roughly, the Hindu caste system is broadly divided into four sacrosanct strata; yet there are literally tens of sub-castes in each category:
1. Brahmin (the priesthood caste, supposedly on top of the social hierarchy) , followed by 2. Kshatriya (the princely hereditary and/or ruling warrior caste):
3. Vashya (the commercial trading, professional and land-owning agricultural castes):
4. Sudra (the menial serving and peasant castes) ,
followed by the Out-caste:
5. The Untouchable or scavenging caste (which has not found authority in the above Vedic hymn.)
« brahmano ‘sya mukham asid,
bahu rajaniah krtah;
uru tad asya yad vaisya;
padbhyam sudro ajayata. »
Rigveda, X,90,12 (sans signes diacritiques)
'His mouth was the Brahman, his two arms were made the warrior,
his two thighs the Vaisya; from his two feet the Sudra was born.'
Transl. & translit. by Arthur A. MacDonnell (1854 - 1930) ,1917
(© T. Wignesan - Paris,1998 - from the sequence/collection: 'Words for a Lost Sub-Continent',1999.)
poem by T. Wignesan
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It Is Needless To Ask Of A Saint
It is needless to ask of a saint the caste to which he belongs;
For the priest, the warrior. the tradesman, and all the
thirty-six castes, alike are seeking for God.
It is but folly to ask what the caste of a saint may be;
The barber has sought God, the washerwoman, and the carpenter-
Even Raidas was a seeker after God.
The Rishi Swapacha was a tanner by caste.
Hindus and Moslems alike have achieved that End, where remains no mark of distinction.
We and our Laws
Our laws permit the police
to lay a trap to catch,
the worst criminal at large,
only on receiving complaints.
The people are cut into size
by the laws of our land
and those of the chopper-rowdies.
The weak and the meek can’t dare
file complaints against the killers
and the cops ignore the unruly deeds.
Some doctors loot the kidneys
and make a quick fortune.
They land in jails after a decade
when the police receive complaints.
Some feign as tax-officers
crush the flowers in the cine-films
and rob their hard-earned money.
The cops won’t act till those girls
come and report with flashing cameras around.
Some unlawful youths kill and scare,
amass wealth in crores,
pipe funds to ruling parties;
the public and the police remain tight-lipped.
The officers need to praise them on dais
in fear of being transferred or blackmailed.
The people feel insecure to see some cops
or the culprits reaching atop the public life.
The politicians too feel uneasy
When the reporters hired or bought step in
as they of the Fourth Estate
could make or mar someone’s repute.
The factors of caste, religion, dinner and cash
spur the newsmen to turn their cameras
and wield their pens to belch out fire and filth.
May God bless those who haven’t joined parties!
---------------
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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The modern love
Clans crack; castes break;
Religions tumble down;
Regions dissolve; races melt.
Modern love is free to cross fire.
Bases shake; identities crash.
27.01.2007
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Kidnap Kidnap Kidnap
Kidnap kidnap kidnap
Everwhere there are kidnaps
Kidnaps kidnaps,
And who is not a kidnapper?
We remain mere spectators
Leaders kidnap the voters
Leaders kidnap the basic needs
of the vilagers country dwellers
Leaders kidnap and kidnap
Leaders are kidnappers.
Maoists kidnap leaders
Maoists kidnap officers
Maoists kidnap foreigners
Maoists kidnaps lawbreakers.
We all are helpless spectators.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Heroes and idols
Heroes and idols
~
we should never meet those
we aspire towards
unless we crave disappointment
idols are flawed, heroes too
I’ve seen first hand
my own poor choices
and all their failings
I should take notes in my book
sketch them into corners
to be read, and read again
maybe the best ones are mad
maybe its that off beat soul
that ticks so many boxes
makes us stand up, take notice
the great ones we label
artists, poets, actors, writers
the more messed up they appear
that extra bit special they seem
some burn out, others die young
but they all leave a legacy
one that stands the test of time
one that has us going back for more
leaving them there always
as idols, heroes to aspire towards
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Purer Than Pure Gold
O brother, purer than pure gold
Is the soil of my land.
Her soil and water
Her fruits and flowers
Quench our thirst and hunger.
as we drink from her milk-pot
To have the blessings of this Mother
Taking leftovers from her temples
Pilgrims are gratified, coming from various castes.
O brother prostrating on the dust of this land
Jewels fall down and welter,
O brother slumber of all in the world
Is broken by the touch of her magic stick.
Coating this soil and this mud
Learning from this land's good conduct
the whole world became civilized all the way
O brother this ascetic in every land
Put on the light out of love,
Mother wakes up alone through the dark night
Watching from the post of crematorium.
poem by Kazi Nazrul Islam
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Bible in Poetry: 1 Corinthians 8
1Foods sacrificed to idols all:
We know we all possess knowledge,
That puffs up, but love builds it up.
2 The man who thinks he knows something,
Does not yet know things he must know.
3He, who loves God, is known by God.
4 Of eating food sacrificed to idols:
An idol is nothing at all;
There is no God but one in world.
5 For ev’n if there are so-called gods,
Whether in heaven or on earth,
(Indeed there are many 'gods', 'lords') ,
6 Yet, there is but one God for us,
The Father, from whom all things came,
And for whose sake, we live on earth;
There is but one Lord, Jesus Christ,
Through whom all things had come to us,
Through whom we live, our lives on earth.
7But everyone does not know this.
Some people are so accustomed
To idols that when they eat food,
They think it was sacrificed to it,
And since their conscience is weak,
It is defiled when they eat it.
8 But food doesn’t bring us nearer God;
We aren’t worse off if we don’t eat,
And better not, if we do eat.
9 Be careful that your freedom then,
Does not become a stumbling block,
To your weaker brothers on earth.
10 If one with a weak conscience,
Sees that you have this knowledge then,
Eating in an idol's temple,
Will emboldened be, to eat what
Has been sacrificed to idols!
11 This weak brother, for whom Christ died,
Is destroyed by your knowledge thus.
12 And when you sin against brothers
This way and wound their conscience,
You sin against the Savior Christ.
13 If what I eat could cause therefore,
My brother to fall into sin,
I will not eat meat ever again,
So that, I will not cause his fall.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 8-1-2007
poem by John Celes
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The Gypsy
That was the top of the walk, when he said:
'Have you seen any others, any of our lot,
With apes or bears?'
A brown upstanding fellow
Not like the half-castes,
up on the wet road near Clermont.
The wind came, and the rain,
And mist clotted about the trees in the valley,
And I’d the long ways behind me,
gray Aries and Biaucaire,
And he said, 'Have you seen any of our lot?'
I'd seen a lot of his lot . . .
ever since Rhodez,
Coming down from the fair
of St. John,
With caravans, but never an ape or a bear.
poem by Ezra Pound
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Population
Cart, car, train, aeroplane,
Telephone, wireless and television
All brought the distance closer.
Internet wiped that little distance.
But the distance between castes
And creeds still grows wider.
The evil lies in population explosion,
Without which comes no revolution.
11.09.2000, Pkdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Flowers of Thy Being
Being the human beings
Undiscerning is our Art
The thoughts are merely feeble
The Actions, unwise
Me Lord! Me Lord!
Helpless we are, careless as well
The Moment, Thy Person reflects Thy Art
Visible is evrything, discerning we are!
What is Thorn? What is Flower?
Demarkation is accessible
Numerous Thorns we come across
Thorns!
Maybe are the Idols!
Yeah, they are!
Our 'self' leads us to Idols
Thy 'Self' takes us towards Flowers:
The Flower of Thy Word!
The Flower of Thy Path!
The Flower of Thy Guidance!
The Flower is nothing else but Thy Being
O' Lord save us from Idols!
Protect us from Thorns I mean
Shower upon us just Thy Flowers
The Flowers of Thy Being
The Flowers of Thy Being
poem by Azhar Hameed
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