I see the media,
The men in journalism and media
Dealing in,
Dispensing with
As the bad fellows,
Morally corrupt and fallen,
Peeping into others' affairs,
Through the backdoor,
The window-curtains
Placing the spycams
In the bathroom.
To poke into others' matters
their jobs,
To leak and break the news,
To instigate and provoke,
Not to douse the flames,
But throw petrol
To make it highly inflammable,
The more it burns
the more will it be profitable,
To do politics with the dead body
And the autopsy
Their character.
The media man is just like a chandal
Or a dom,
I mean the burning ghat cruel tax-collector
Or a skin tanner,
A drunk hangman
Or the morgue man
Just like Yama
Standing before,
The Hindu God of Death,
Ethnic and tribal,
Blackly,
Not from complexion aspect
But from within too,
Cruel and callous indeed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem