Khurshid Alam, 9 września 2012
Strike, call a strike
Gung-ho!
Clamour, clamour, clamour
Acuteness trails behind
Listen, listen, listen
Everyone runs away
Silence looms large
Strike, strike now…
Clash, lathi charges
Tear gas. Clashes.
Listen, listen, listen
Everyone runs away
Silence looms large
Hospitals are shut down
Doctors, nurses and others demand
RAISE in wages
CUT in working hours
At present the working hours
Are T-O-O L-O-N-G!
Four hours a day!
And wages too small
Ten thousand per day!
Now they demand salary
To be paid in advance
Well before the month begins
And recess to be altered with working hours
They’d work only in between
During tea breaks and lunch period
Patients are writhing in pain
Some have schedule for operations
Some need immediate attention
Some have broken heart, some broken bones
Strike, strike, strike
They cannot operate or attend
Until their demand is met
Strike, strike, strike
Until some patients die
They do not see a ray of hope
So some must sacrifice their life
Strike, strike, strike
Listen, listen, listen
Everyone runs away
Silence looms large.
Source: The Applicant
Khurshid Alam, 1 grudnia 2011
At the Crossings
We’ll meet at the crossings
Or see each other in the crowd
Or match eyes from a distance
Then we’ll realize
What we lost and what we gained.
Khurshid Alam, 1 grudnia 2011
The Doll
The doll imitates the forms
Of a woman
But it lacks the content—
The dark patches gone
The hirsute cleansed
The black heads removed.
Untimely blinks, sneering face
Under unkempt hair
Big laughs and irregular teeth.
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