My poem one


You who stand before me is an Aryan lies all the time, cheats all the time, and loots me all the time, telling you are doing good to me.


You who is a vedic soul, intrigue against me, cheat me, lie to the world that you are doing good to me and yet you kill me and sacrifise my blood to your tantrik deities to give lift to your children.


You who claims to be a Hindu, lie all the time, loot me all the time, and kill me left and right and claim you are for ahimsa nonviolence and truth, for you give my wealth to your children.


You who say you are the citiizen of Mahatma Gandhi's land, lie and lie more to hide your lies; steal and steal more to fill your pockets;
and kill me without any principle or value, only to see that I do not live, but your children live and prosper.


You who claim to be the bhakta of Jaganath's land only lie, cheat and steal and kill me at the alter of your tantrik deities to steal away all my luck to give it to your children.


I do not know if I will believe you or not; if I can love you or not; or if I can will your happiness or not.


But all of you kill me bit by bit, most cruelly, most sadistically, and most inhumanly and yet boast that you are doing good to me.


For what do you commit such crimes ? To impress upon the civilised world that you are a great culture and the most civilised culture?


But I know you do not even know how to be good, how to be truthful, and how to be beautiful; these things are absent in your age old culture.


No amout of Science and Philosophy can change your your age old character; you will kill me where ever you are and when ever you get a chance.

POEM NO 3

For last thirty years I have been searching for a human person, but can not get him.


All the mortals I meet speak one thing in my front and just the opposite behind my back.


All those who speak very sweetly before me, stab me in my back


I could not find a person who could be honestly good, honestly sincere, honestly loving.


I could not even find a person who could be philosophic, who could think of the thoughts and thoughts about us.


I could not find a person who could value in my friendship with out profit making.


I could not even find a female who could respect me as I am and love me as I am; they all loved the liar, the rich and the corrupt who show off in front and commit all the crimes behind.


I could not find a person who would value learning and higher research and the wisdom there from so that he or she could love me.


Things have changed in last fifty years; the Oxbridge culture, the Harvard MIT culture have given way to the Aryan bygone culture of lies, anarchy, destruction, chaos and looting where man hates man, kills men and lives in one self only.


I have found all those who come to my house or my contact, work against me and harm me.


Tell me how can I live in such a chaotic society and create my art literature anm philosophy?

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Poem no three

Professor KP was my colleague as well as the colleague of my father and student too.


After many years when he had retired and I had come to this city to stay in my house, he dropped in one day to be my friend.


He talked about his childhood days when he was brought up by his step mother; he talked about his hard days and how he gave up a central government service to be a state government lecturer; he also talked about his research and getting the Ph.D.degree in science.


He talked about his family and his children and how he is trying to build his house to live in the city permanently.


I gave him coffee and snacks.


He continued to come and I treated him with affection; but the talk always went into economics and politics, unloved by me the artist, but loved by him the scientist.


I also invited him for dinner and he talked about his own greatness and how he is respected in his village; I cooked myself and served him myself.


He had his wife and maid to look after him; but he never invited me for dinner or tea.


Suddenly another known person came and told me that the Professor was not at all my friend; he could be termed as an enemy; I did not believe.


One day a senior Colleague of the professor told that Prof KP was tring to get me married, but I denied; this was a lie.


Then I came to know all the lies that the professor used to tell; in fact he was just a taut who has not done much science but was busy in poltics and populistic things.


No wonder we just could not discuss the philosophy of science or scientific methods, leave aside the philosophy of art and aesthetics.


I argued myself, if a science professor could indulge in politics, what would be the condition of the rest of the public; surely we are going down in the sphere of values, ideas and virtues, for which my father was so revered and Prof KP was his student.


Perhaps values, ideals, ideas and virtues are inborn things; they cannot be inculcated through education and scientific tempers.

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