Let it heal

The world is breathing,
It is healing.

We are struggling to live
Still fighting.

Conspiracy theories of warfare
Has made love, being loved unfair.

To fight the virus,
We're washing our hands,
Wearing masks;
If the mind could be shielded
And washed as well
We'd have helped us
Faster off this hell.
It seems we ought to
Do some thinking still,
The world is healing,
Let it heal. 

The state of the global village

We are in the anteroom,
in a castle we knew as world,
playing out perhaps the last act
of a drama; men, women, children
all at once engaged
as the sleepwalking Grouch,
cleaning the dirty hands;
caregivers are failing,
so are the perfumes of Arabia
to wash the scarlet guilt away.

What a spell has fallen upon us,
that we are outwitted
by an invisible,
so-far-invincible virus.

The historian inside
trembles to paint
the grim picture in words,
of how an imperceptible petite germ
failing the intelligence
of the unprepared
disabled, challenged world
that has successfully cracked
into the outer space.

News, tracking the countless
figures falling as flies,
as though keeping the scores
of a horrendous Olympic game,
every continent, losing lives,
liquidating businesses;
putting work to an abysmal
standstill; lockdown, the sole remedy
to this pandemic peril,
confinement, the only prescription
waiting for the underestimated
enemy to perish. Everyone is jobless
except for the relentless, indefatigable,
resilient doctors and nurses.

Realisation that too much greed
is of no use, other than the futile
effort of getting rid of the guilt;
globalisation was merely to
grow and develop, uniting the world
was never the business, a concern
it ignored the decay, the screech
of the tonsured world; deglobalisation
that the world’s facing now
could finally unite humans with humans.

On witnessing the countless procession of hearse,
perhaps the stage is tired of wars;
disunities, differences might wither from within,
soul-searching might very well begin;
a new way of thinking might emerge
old and failed methods, purged;
global citizenry will perhaps concur to win;
world, a waiting room, tired of losing,
now, in the last act, eagerly washing
its hands of all the erstwhile, countless sins.

World!

We have so far
molested the world
as a brothel;
now, let us treasure
it as an ashram.

Find us a cure

You, the supreme

Of all sentient beings,
The cream of the cream?

You have learned to fight

In the dullest days, darkest nights.
Guns, weapons engaged to kill
Your own species with matchless skill.

Your outer-space intelligence,
Your wealthy arrogance,
Why are they useless
Now, to protect us
Against an invisible virus?

You will take months to prepare
A vaccination! Why can't you expedite
For your expeditions, you take lesser time
You supreme erudite! For within this tenure
The deadly creature will tonsure
The defenseless battlefield,
Where is your smartness now?
If you can, show us how
You can help at this hour of need.

All this while you have wasted our money
In outer space, invested in other
Things, as expensive as white elephants
But you cannot take care of our safety
Against a creature much smaller than ants?

Inside the oceans, you store
Countless weapons of disaster
Yet, at times of crisis such as this
There’s not enough equipment
No adequate infrastructure.

Look at the rejoicing nature
Dancing in fresh air
It has got some respite from us
Thanks to the deadly virus.
You are greedy, made small
Although you sound like big brothers.

Take this as a lesson please,
Do not fight with human beings;
Learn to fight real enemies
That spread pandemics such as these,
Do not waste public money anymore
Save us from dying, find us a cure.

Virus, an avatar of Vishnu?

This virus for me is
An avatar of Vishnu
It has come upon the stage
To teach us a lesson;
With a gentle jerk
He pulled the brake
Of the money-making mind
Driving, causing hazards, going berserk,
The mechanical car that polluted for ages,
Abused every being on earth.
Nature is saying times for a while,
It is at peace, experiencing bliss.

I heard a voice within me
Criticizing, cursing me bitterly
For this insanity.
'How horrid is this that you call
The deadly virus Vishnu?
Thousands dying in the pandemic,
And you? Writing your senseless lines, without a clue
Calling this a teaching?
As both start with the letter 'V'
You find a link? A disgusting similarity?
You call this virus an avatar of Vishnu
You must be a horribly possessed Hindu!
You should hide in shame
For playing such a thoughtless poetic game!'

I say this with a hand on my heart
If only I could also die in His craft,
The innocent lives are sacrificed
For nothing! You need eighteen months
To come up with a vaccine?
How weak is the Intelligence?
Why can't it be cracked in eighteen minutes?
How absurdly horrendous,
Isn't each dying moment precious?

If pigs are the reason for this,
First the swine flu
And then the virus,
Why do we have them at all
In our mouth-watering menu?
I imagined Vishnu smiling,
In my ears softly whispering,
'Go deep and look for the remedy
If pigs are the reason for this mayhem
The cure might also come from them,' I repeated,
The cure might also come from them.

With this, the Lord disappeared in my dream,
When will my wailing world
From this invisible viral germ be delivered?
I forgot to ask this to Him
My Vishnu, my shepherd.

haiku on coronavirus

An unknown virus

silently spreads in the air
its venomous wings

Springtime! Smiling sky
Fragrance of flowers fills the air
Virus spreads venom

Work under lockdown.
World stands united at last
People die like flies