Sunday, 16 November 2014

The Serially Dispossessed

My father was born here, he said
They still live in the same house
Noises of a lifetime, from grandparents to grandchildren

Ancient trees of wisdom
Cultural sarcasm, fertility and infidelity
These are vestiges of the landed
Of contiguous stories, and alien rants

Fleshed out jealousies, need time
As do, across the fence rivalries
These are things of aspiration
For the serially dispossessed

Shorn naked to nudity of humanity
A few old but clean clothes on the back
Counted paisas, crumpled rupees
Rich with idealism of the serially dispossessed

The sullied discontent of the stable
Meets the durability of the immigrant
The purity of race, meets virility of the interbred

The homogeneous contentment of the inbred
Can be best understood, in the shy smile of the refugee
Mansions and palaces, are incomplete without pedestrians
Without the serially dispossessed

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