AS THE CURTAIN FELL ON THE ‘THEATRE OF CRUELTY’

AS THE CURTAIN FELL ON THE ‘THEATRE OF CRUELTY’

Recently  I met with that director

From the theatre of abuses

He came in a skull cap

Which could as well have been

A hell- mate (sometimes spelt helmet)

For all I cares.

 His techniques of humiliation

Honed and perfected in the attic of caste

Hounded people every where

And in every walk

Quarantining the world

And teaching it disrespect for each other

And the rat race

That leads to nowhere.

With the tape worm that slithered around his belly

Securing him from the impure folk around him

He would mount bhajans all around for a grim faced terror

That was eating into the entrails of every man and woman.

Every flow had to be dammed up and siphoned to the purposes of utility

Freedom had to be freed from the domes

And used as a tether, an impossible one, that.

The stones thrown stuck to mid air

The lashes did more to wet the eyes

And for the bursts of fire

And many knots

He had no answer,

And the actress in her frustration

Went up in air

The well planned music

Stuck to prime time

And the footloose dancer

Meddled up the taste.

Hiedeggar had his name changed a bit 

To play in the Hedge war.

Doctors killed off their patients

People fell from the train

Spells were cast and locks invented

And every pie in their pockets were drained with

His fountains and water works

Nuclear trouble

And empty pipe dreams for everyone

And would steal the nectar from every spring in the making.

The skinned torso

Upon which they had carved a swastika

Hooked to the past

Hung there helpless

From that troubled tree.

But then the scenes underwent a change

The directors nose that was poking in so often

Was no more to be seen

Having been cut-off

By the crowd, off-stage,

The hiran escaped from the twilight zone

And the lion- headed monster

With his bloody grimace

Turned to the world

And let out a roar.

The mahisha took away his mask

In a muria ghotul

"Are you Gomata Yaksha?", or Rishabha natha?

They queried.

And the kids came around to ask him about his sins

“There were many,

And one was that I Loved,

I admit to it,

No doubt, I did!”

The snake of eternity

Upon which the master took to rest

In a swing did throw him under

And danced along with the sun to meet with the falcon

Its body, recovered.

The nagas spoke to Parswanatha who knew well of the ledges

And of Janamejayas( born to win/ victory to the people)
In whose name itself there was a big lie.

Snakes danced together in the backyard

To the unlimited song of the sirens

And rose hissing from every where

As did trees, coupling freely, in the wind.

Playing out again

As the chakra rolled on, no more a weapon.

The lotus returned to Buddha’s pond

And the sound trapped in the conch came back to the world

Amidst peels of laughter,

As an age freed itself

To a new beginning.