A Distress Call

Trapped between the disparity and the stirring,
Amid the bliss of self and guilt,
Amid the demon and Lord Krishna,
Amid the wide divine revelation
And low sordid void.

Crushed between secularism and social justice;
Reddened by the merciless acts of Jihadis and Naxals;
Crushing the humanity like a ruthless demon,
In the name of brutal Lord and red comrade;
And sucking the every drop of people’s blood.

My most unruly mischievous self
Revolts within when the blanket of Blessings
Covers my outer selfish self,
It declines to be quiet,
Pines to be a weird self-seeking soul.

Exhibiting an unattractive thumb
With a jabbing, smelling up nose,
Self-pitying on the self-rotting cuts,
Those decline to get cured,
In spite of the best of prayers and blessings.

I pray to the Mighty Lord Krishna,
To bless me with the strength of Arjuna,
To wipe out the brutal inner Jihadis,
Those have swelled their ugly ranks,
Like the virus of cancer to destroy my nation.