Eviction

oh Goddess Earth,
i have been given some alphabets on paper,
dictated by serious men, in somber robes,
they say, i cannot call you mother,
that i have to find another,
i confess i admire their erudition,
they make me an orphan, and
pass it off as mere eviction.

oh Goddess Earth,
they will soon arrive with modern tools,
hack down our forests, those ignorant fools,
the self proclaimed messiahs,
will then in all seriousness claim,
“It’s not the climate stupid,
our aging bodies are just not the same”.

oh Goddess Earth,
who am i now,
a solitary figure in masses of data, now hailed as oil,
an uncertain future, far away from my soil,
another statistic trampled by time,
romanticized in stories, sometimes remembered in rhyme,
cast away by a blind lady,
scale of “justice” in her hand,
to wander as a refugee in my own land.

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I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write

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Maruti Naik

Maruti Naik

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I write to remember. I write to remain honest. I write to leave a bread crumb trail for my daughter. I write to relax. Trying to impress my better half, I write