1.Lynched God

 Purged from the annals of history
 vestiges being excavated of
 fallen, broken, desecrated idols
 entombed in violent memorials like Pokhran-II.

 Tales of a great soul
 lost in translation
 from Pali to Sanskrit
 scores of viharas
 spiritually usurped
 by vedic hymns.

 Bullets from saffron terrorists
 burned Bamiyans holes
 in pages of medieval Indian history
 tales of the vanquished race
 erased from the fables agreed upon.

 People of our race seek refuge,
 in a lankan island,
 like Chiang Kai Shek's defeated army in Taiwan.

 He used to meditate in
 three posters
 Padmasana, Abhaya, bhumisparsa
 but before lynching
 he lined up to the guillotine in Pranama posture.

 He descended down
 into the collective conscience of a
 a society as just one of the zillions of deities
 without a capital first letter
 India has become Brobdingnag for him,
 the miniature Gulliver among saffron gods and goddesses.

 In Malaysia
 he occasionally gets his due
 in a giant prostate deity
 as giant Gulliver in the land of Lilliput.

 His autobiography
 now sold as saffron history textbooks
 twice born editor
 refused to acknowledging the ghost writer.

 First global Indian
 almost has an NRI status now.

  2.Beads around the bosoms

 A chain of beads
 around the bare breasts of our eves
 a grim reminder
 of lynching of our god

3.Love Letter from Dame- Anglo Saxon
I am dame,
a daughter of the white man,
have no penis envy
a symphony on the tongue of a universal man
for all my suitors
I open a window of opportunity
to conquer the global village.
I help you proclaim to the world
who you are..
a queer can “come out”,
my nerve endings are named Sappho,Virginia Wolf
ignore my white skin..
I am not averse to the color purple
You can discard the garment that ties both of your legs into one.
come seduce me..
kiss me..
Your suppressed voices will sprout tongues!
I have estuaries of streams
in the delta of my Venus.
swim through them
from the margins to the mainstream.
I love inter racial love making.

Invade my inner space
Broaden your horizons
encrypt your stories
in the breeze emanating from my tresses
You can reclaim the center
that holds
even when “Things fall apart”(1)
in the “Heart of darkness”(2)
You can cast yourself anew
Shed a tainted skin ,
drape in a camouflage
and be naked again..
1 Name of Chinua Achebe novel that tries to reclaim African sensibility from that of an Eurocentric
2 Joseph Conrad's novel “The heart of darkness” which denigrates African humanity.

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