Maruti Naik

Jun 8, 2019

1 min read

The cost of lies

A transport plane,
goes missing,
media raves about two gloves,
“balidan” of the crew,
deemed less important,
like the copter that was shot down,
and covered up,
do those felled by their own,
qualify as martyrs,
or do they remain buried,
like employment numbers,
revealed after elections,
an annoying reminder,
that the truth lies in wait.

Reputations airbrushed,
staines washed off,
a simple life, we are told,
a virtuous life, we are sold,
caught in an endless spin,
like a ponzi scheme,
that cannot stop,
weak people seemingly bold.

As they clamour,
raising voices to a din,
asking questions now a mighty sin,
they ask the opponents to quit,
look after your family they say,
stay at home,
get out of the fray,
all those who voted,
are they fools,
aren’t they happy to pay,
the cost that does not matter,
to most,
would you not bow to their judgement,
respect their wishes,
they are okay to live in debt,
even if it were to truth,
what they believe has to be true anyway,
they won, didn’t they.

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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