India: 2018

There's saffron flying in the air,
The saints are drinking with little care,
Bovine mothers no more till the soil,
Bearded fakirs do yet recoil
With horror, thundering, saffron all around,
The loudspeaker plays out devotional Hindi songs,
The white-clad leaders smell exotic oils,
Crooked dealers bring things to a boil.
Every of the billion suffering unbidden,
Their cares, upward ambitions so hidden,
They pour in hours, little to expose,
Knives, lathis, charges unfold;
The criminal knows not what got him here,
Sitting in his prison cell he holds none dear ;
The women seek grooms all dandy,
To take them away from the god-forsaken shanty.
The roads of craters and balloons,
Bridges tumble down, spelling doom;
Children learn by heart, eyes away from the world,
Now thrown in the throes of corporate culture.
Let's shout out loud for we are growing,
Amid this diverse jungle, little knowing
That a heartful exchange, and now a kind word
Could lead to change, our flags unfurled.