Poem : On Anna Hazare

India is its villages,
Will Anna make India his village?
Gandhi defeated colonialism,
Will a Gandhian defeat neo-colonialism?
Or will consumerism, corruption and commercialization crush the country, my country?
Democracy – supposedly people find a voice here,
Will this man’s voice be heard?
Or will only the scream of his death resonate?
He has only his death to offer,
The commercial media will take that too,
Legends are easy to sell, so are heroes, so are souls.
In this realm of crimson irony,
The man sits accompanied by a man who conquered the stars,
Will man ever conquer himself though?
Alone in the sun,
It is a battle of David and Goliath.
But alone in the fields,
Labourers toil on,
Corruption is an academic term to them,
It is perhaps important to only the English speaking city dwellers who must sell their country,
To sell themselves…
Tears flow like streams in his mind,
Channelling themselves in the wrinkles,
Hope they will come out of the maze,
A maze of the wrinkles of old age….