'Poor Cousin' Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

Newspapers have pretty much lost their importance now,
instant news are made available, every bit digital.
Continuous crunching of digits make sensation
with continuous munching of an appropriate material.
Earlier desks used to look for matter, facts, black-and-white pictures,
now moving documentaries, every minute, every bit, light - sound-music,
a constant entertainment is the other name of news.
There is something called 'Breaking',
every moment something is breaking,
or they are made to believe so -
no brake in breaking.

Newspapers are distant cousins -
once upon a time, they were prosperous,
lovely articles, Laxman cartoons, vivid sports description -
words used to run on the AstroTurf faster than the dimple,
and there used to be competition among family-members,
who will grab the newspaper first, in the morning.
Newspapers were unaware of the struggle going on for the pages.

Nothing remains the same.
Newspapers have changed.
Now they come with supplements having pictures of celebrities, kitty parties, celebrations.
Picture matters,
'My picture' matters more,
'My pet' a little more than more.

To attract, newspapers change form, color, editor -
yet, a poor cousin remains a distant, a poor cousin.