The Post Electoral Whine

Liberal Left. Fundamental Right. And the battle blazes bright. 

Take a deep breath folks, People of India have cast their vote.

There will be time for judgement; meantime, won’t you rest your trumpet?

Have a mango, stop heckling Kejri like some roadside Rambo.

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Ab Ki Baar ...

Ab ki baar, trudge to a bar,

A glass of red, and jeet-haar.

Bright spot on the horizon? Congress' rout.

'PM Modi' appears no more a doubt.

He's delivered a dynastic knockout!

Congrats, Modi sarkar! But the celebration -

Keep short; The turnout of a billion

Makes one demand: get down to business.

Over history, Mandir, beef - don't fuss,

Stick to governace, governance plus!

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

A Girl With A Book

A girl with a book. 

Terrifies the terror crooks.

Be it Malala.

Or schoolgirls of Nigeria.

How easy to brandish a gun.

Co-opt Allah as a crewman.

A book makes you think.

Question and not blink.

A book in the hands of women 

is a scary thing. To scared men.

©Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Xianggang, My Fragrant Harbour

Xianggang, my fragrant harbour -

You, of chao la, dimsum, and red junk,

of bulls and bears and the seasonal scares -

Sars and haze and avian flu funk ...

Where a writer - say what? of fiction?!

Is an exotic anomaly, to be politely indulged

As serious people with serious ambition

Ponder bonds and markets and who what fudged ...

From a literary backwater to the world’s lit capital -

Will be quite the flight, I am told.

Perhaps. What can a writer do in the Big Apple

but recreate - clumsily, recklessly, lovingly - in words ...

The world she lives in and leaves behind,

The world of frequent mist and forever rain,

Where I raised my child and four books did find ...

Xianggang, one day, I shall write you a paean.

©Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Wendy Didn't Start The Fire

In an out-of-court settlement Penguin India has agreed to withdraw and pulp all copies of Wendy Doniger's 'The Hindus: An Alternative History' because it offends the religious sensibilities of six claimants. I am so mightily miffed. Not only is Ms Doniger's book excellent, it is a perspective into the Hindu faith from the lens of minorities, Dalits, women and animals. With inspiration from Billy Joel, here is my ode to Wendy Doniger!

Rig veda, Sama Veda, Yajur Veda, Atharva Veda

Ramayana, Upanishad, Mahabharata,

Shastras, Shlokas, Tantras, Puranas, 

Shruti, Shruta, Kama Sutra

Dharma, Karma, Moksha, Samsara, 

Renunciation, Meditation, Reincarnation,

Shramana, Brahmana, Ahimsa,

Manu, Kautilya, Vatsyayana

Wendy didn’t start the fire ...

The Hindutva wants singularity - 

When Hinduism is all about plurality,

Hybridity, Multiplicity, Diversity

Unicorn seal from Harappa,

The Great Frieze at Mamallapuram, 

Bronze dancing girl from Mohenjo-Daro

The Linga at Gudimallam,

Ajanta, Ellora, Bhakti, Pashupati,

Sanskrit, Tamil, Hindi,

Debate, Discourse, My view, Your view,

Who needs Hindu papacy?

Wendy didn’t start the fire ...

Offended sensibility, out-of-court settlement,

A penguin with tale between clipped wings,

So if you don’t fight it, instead retire

On the slippery slope of censorship,

Hindutva is cracking its whip;

Argumentative Indian, stand up,

Counter this ban in the land of Gup.

Remember, Wendy didn’t start the fire ...

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

You Gotta Be A Woman

My favourite season of all is here,

Hong Kong has declared fall, ye hear?

Crisp days, bouncing with sunshine

To stay indoors seems such a crime.

From my open window the breeze

Does tickle my palm fronds and tease,

My nose with fumes that declare 

the neighbour’s frying pork, beware!

Sunny with a nip,

Chilly for an early morning dip,

Bright and shiny with purpose,

Meditative and fully languorous -

Beckoning me outside

While I must write inside,

You’re such a perfect contradiction, Fall,

You gotta be a woman, after all.

©Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Outside my Window

I watch

the wind, the rain

outside my window -

toss and twirl,

tremble and swirl,

embrace, then

draw away.

A tango perhaps?

or is it a child’s game 

of hide & seek?

I know

it is the tunnel effect

pitting the rain and wind

into a funnel,

but what physics 

will explain

the joy in me as

I watch

the wind, the rain...

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

A Summer's Day in Hong Kong

Image courtesy: http://www.ltexpo.com.hk/

A Hong Kong day is whimsical

A teen pondering her prom dress -

Blue organza gown decked with white,

A gauzy shift a la rain’s caress...

Or will it be full-on radiance

With golden threads?

Like dresses arrayed on a bed,

3 seasons in a day is HK’s summer largesse.

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Hong Kong’s Indian Summer

Azure sky with popcorn clouds,

A cascade of variegated green -

A mountain that spills with 50 shades

or more, of aquamarine,

Dotted with joggers, amblers, dogs with maids...

From my window I behold

A sunlit world hum and murmur;

As if out of a tunnel of mildew and mold,

Hong Kong had tumbled into an Indian summer,

And hastily decked itself in fool’s gold.

Well, what’s not to love -

Feast for the eyes, and a lesson in tow:

Endless bleak days cast in glove,

Days of labour and ceaseless sow,

Will coax, if for a day, the reluctant heavens above.

© Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

My Arrant City

Hong Kong, where it pours like Hell’s fury in the morn

And the afternoon, glows golden like ripening corn,

Blue skies, dotted with cirrus,

Transmogrify to a monster thunderous.

My crazy arrant city -

You mirror my mood with alacrity:

Thrashing awhile in history...

I might have emerged with some artillery!

©Manreet Sodhi Someshwar

Image courtesy http://www.flickr.com/photos/dcmaster/favorites/?view=lg

What Is A Writer To Do?

Muse and I, Staring down a Vacation

Adios amigos, I’m off on a break,

This year, the Muse has been on my case,

I’ve convinced her its not a jailbreak -

End of year, we just need some space.

Wine - red, white and sparkling,

Coupled with seafood and salads divine,

Before the whale watching,

And after the swim with bottlenose dolphin.

My plan, even Mirza Nosha would endorse,

I point out to the Muse with alacrity!

My friend, she fixes me with a steely gaze,

Ghalib liked his wine French, and you, are going southerly.

Time to deploy good Gibran as I confess:

Let the winds of heaven blow between our togetherness.

So, for the nonce, she’s gone,

To whatever place Muses go, perhaps Saigon?

Not too far, you see, I can’t take the chance,

I need her around when I return from my holiday,

When copious amounts of wine have me in a trance,

Floundering at my desk on a writing day.

But that day is still a fortnight away,

A fortnight in which to hike and see some stalactite,

Little penguins, shark whale and manta ray,

Ahoy there, Muse, recharged, we'll resume the rewrite!