Murder on Baker Street-

Coming into the parlour I realised something was wrong.

Holmes was disturbed, his violin wasn't scratching out a song.

In a gown, elbows on armrest, fingertips pressed together,

Eyes closed, eyebrows knitted together in consternation.

Lips mumbling in spurts of anger and condemnation.

I couldn't figure out if he was on a Case; or just bad weather.

I looked around wondering, 'What was this new Mystery?'

Or was it the after-effects of a late night opium fantasy?

Holmes was on to a case that was certainly disturbing him   

'Was someone killed, Holmes?' 'Do we take up guard?' 

'Have they been informed, the detectives from the Yard?'

Staring pensively, my questions seemed to bounce off him. 

Finally, he muttered 'This is murder most foul, Watson'.

'Need to get to the bottom of this,' he said toying with his gun

'But who was killed, Holmes, have they left a clue?'

'It is the gingerbread man,' he said with a sinister eye.

'What ! A piece of bread? My dear Holmes,' said I,

And I thought one of your culprits was giving his due.

'This here gingerbread man looks fine to me.'

'Precisely, but if you would break a piece and see.'

'Watson, there is garlic in the gingerbread man' 

'Ah  Yes, a fine ginger taste, but ouch! is that garlic?

This is terrible, Holmes, hope it doesn't make me sick'.

Holmes chuckled and brought out his tobacco can.

'I wonder where it came from? Holmes do you have any idea? ' 

“Hum! The Chef trained in Ferrandi, Paris is from South India.'

'Your methods are amazing. How did you deduce that, Holmes?'

'Elementary my dear Watson, I have often ordered at mabaker.in

His food - pies, cakes and desserts are to die for, a heavenly sin

But the gingerbread man can forever and ever stay home.'

 

#ftstanswamy

 Speaking the truth, he is silenced with spite.

Shackled for standing up to what is right. 

Pity, the Government who fears an old teacher,

A preacher, and for the tribals a fighter. 

#ftstanswamy

The Pandemic And The Sea

At the Annual Conference of Sea Creatures,                     

 In an urgent cabinet of the Redressal Department

Stood a Grouper in a mask and sneakers.

On one eye a Salmon had a tablet strip like a tent.

A Dolphin marched in with a PPE kit covering its rostrum

An unhappy Turtle followed with a syringe sticking up its bum.

'This is all getting out of hand or fin'

Said the poster at the entrance of the Coral door.

A smack of jellyfish coughed over the din                       

 A Red snapped back, "This is getting to be a bore."

The Sardines sandwiched somewhere in the room,

For lack of space, the Whales attended over Zoom.

'With these humans, there is certainly something wrong,

they are dumping more into our seas, ' said Mrs Shrimp.

A pandemic probably, but they should learn to get along.

Not dump every mask and syringe up to the Ocean's brim.

'You can't go on sweeping your dirt under water's cloak.

Not long, but some day soon it will all float and choke.'

They have always diverted their shit into our rivers,

Our ocean shores are dead and slick with oil.

They have tested nuclear bombs in our waters

and left their manipulative data on our Ocean soil.

This earth is 70 % water, but these little humans don't realise,

If the Ocean Gods burp, they'll just get washed away in a trice.

A Prayer

Dear Lord, I pray

Be with me today

Be my living

Be my loving

And my giving.

Be my song

Be my words

And my thoughts

Be with me today.

Dear Lord, I pray

Amen.

Just One Dance

 Why do you show your face just once dear Jasmine?

Why just one spectacular show

Won't you hold on to the fine dress a little while

And stay till the curtain calls your last encore.

Does anyone notice your pretty face?

All powdered from the green room below.

We sure are going to miss your finest lace

So stay with us for another show.

Your scent perfumes just for today

Your pearl white petals flash a trance

And just as quickly you lie dead on the way

Leaving us still waiting for that one last dance.

So what about tomorrow that pines in vain

Who can tell who lives and dies another day?

Learn then of the jasmine who tomorrow disdains,

But dances and dies in an eternity called today

The great Indian kit trick

 

She stood in a long line, pouring with sweat.

Praying that there would be enough for everyone.

Finally, overjoyed and thankful, she collected her kit,

Plastered with grinning photos of 20 party leaders’ sons.  

 

She quickly hurried home to feed her children. 

Ashamed to beg, her husband had hung himself a month ago.

She cooked a pot of rice, mixed with some dal,

And carried it past her hungry children to the hut next door.

 

She poured out a large portion for four starving faces. 

Then came home, fed her children and licked the pot dry.

“Why did you have to feed them first, Mother?," they asked. 

She replied, "If they die of hunger before us, then what am I?”

 

..................................................

 

This kit, that contains grains, oil, soap etc. being distributed by political parties and individuals, does certainly provide some relief to many families. But is that sufficient? Can families survive for months on this kit?

With each drought, flood, or pandemic, the government announces a host of new schemes. But will these one-time handouts, however, be enough to sustain families who have lost their family members, livelihoods and homes?
Does it actually reach those who need it the most? Is there a secure delivery mechanism to the one in need, not the politicians’ ample pocket? Or is all this  just another photo opportunity?

Governments should look into providing sustainable incomes and pensions for all.  Not just a political handout. Not just a quick fix kit trick. 

A hard night gonna fall

 This is song about the pain and suffering in India caused by  Covid and the negligence  by greedy leaders. Remembering the many who died and their loved ones, and the many health workers who continue fighting this sickness despite any Govt support. 

Based on the song by Bob Dylan - A hard rain gonna fall

Oh, where have you been, my dear little son? Oh, where have been, my darling young one?

I've been where a 100 pyres burn the night into day.

I've been where the powered make money from the dead.

Been there as a vendor's cart is kicked over in anger .

Was at the Ganges whose banks grow beds of saffron flowers. 

Been with young men carrying somebody's dead mother. 

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard night that's gonna fall.

Oh, what did you see, my dear little son? Oh, what did you see, my darling young one?

I saw a life wheeled in and a body bag rolled out.

Saw the politician driven in his  oxygen loaded car.

Saw a doctor quickly wipe a tear in a reflection.

I saw a fist full of money couldn't buy a single breathe . 

I saw a long line waiting  for the magic vaccine.

Saw a longer line go hungry that evening. 

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard night that's gonna fall

Oh, what did you hear, my dear little son? Oh, what did you hear, my darling young one?

I heard the beep of life that was silent in the morning.

Heard a young man's cough breaking heaven's door.

I heard an old man cry like a child for his mother.

Heard the rush of duty as nurses ran in their oversized gear.

I heard the last call of a child "bye mama I'm going, don't fear". 

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard night that's gonna fall

Oh, what will you do, my dear little son?

Oh, what will you do, my darling young one?

I'll scream at the world as it's gone all wrong.

Watch them hang murderers with ropes of their poisoned money.

I'll touch a lost hand and hope it would smile back at me.

I'll wonder if plastic and masks will just cover the ocean.

I'll  fight for my right to life on this earth again.

And I'll pray that this doesn't ever happen again.

And it’s a hard, and it’s a hard, it’s a hard. And it’s a hard night that's gonna fall.