Poetry

The world of cinema is alluring. Thousands flock Bollywood to gain entry. Maximum of them languish hoping to have a brake. Those few who have Godfathers in the industry survive. Others are simply exploited in every way. Yet to enter film industry remains a dream for thousands.
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A lass lands in a big city
metropolitan and cosmopolitan
arriving from a small township
to make it big
like every other fellow
numerous dreams in her kitty.
 
She finds herself
midst concrete jungle
where no one cares
for others
harsh reality
soon dawns upon her.
 
She encounters
selfish, biased, brutal and deceptive
qualities making an urbanite captive
no Godfather is around
merit also has no ground
no one dares to be receptive.
 
Here, one’s chance is another’s death
one gets choked, another gets breath
perish or leave, tricks of the trade
most of them fail and fade
survival of the fittest is ‘ gurumantra’*
by hook or crook ,have to learn this ‘antra’.**
 
Bewildered and confused
realisation makes her sad
everyone on his own
in this ocean, she is all alone
sympathies, if there, are not shown
not getting her moorings, makes her mad.
 
Her ambitions, desire and aspirations
to make it to the top
dashed to ground
she takes to vices
or compromises
mentally and physically
gets unsound.
 
The luring tower gulped thousands
still her flock makes daily appearance
at the station
at the ports
at the bus-stops
at the air ports
to soon play an act
the act of disappearance.
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copyright Tribhawan Kaul