Treasure Island

sathya narayana

(12-06-1958 / Nellore, Andhra Pradesh)

Red & White

Standing under the hot Sun,
he shouted slogans.
Displayed his sunken belly
and spilled tears.
Wiped and whipped his sweat
and swore on his blood.

That' s all sometime ago
When he was in reds!

Now he turned to all-whites
His khaddar full hands shirt
struggles to hide his pot-belly...
He doesn't remember
when he last did sweat
His air-conditioners are working well.

Now he doesn't shout
doesn't swear...
But sometimes sobbing in deep sleep...
mumbles his old slogans.

Submitted: Thursday, March 07, 2013
Edited: Friday, March 08, 2013

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  • Queeny Gona (8/31/2013 8:04:00 AM)

    Seriousness at one hand and humour on the other hand, this poem is rich with life's unnoticed issues.

    Well penned uncle (Report) Reply

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