This poem was penned on the way to work. I originally envisioned it as a blog comment to share the pain of a poet who was censured and asked to apologize in writing by other Indian writers. It can be taken as a jibe on inertia to imagination, insecurities sometimes termed as culture or high-priests faced by the common Indian man on average day. for ex, it can be termed against castes, hierarchy or even own limitations etc. The poem is kept intentionally simple.
Caves and Cavemen
My father and mother brought us up in a cave,
Just like their fathers and mothers before.
The caves were cozy and moist,
and shielded us from angry gods and jealous neighbors
When your windows shake with winds
or kids sneak out through your windows
I sleep in peace, as we never had any windows
indeed my cave is cozy, moist and safe
Our caves have been the envy of men and women
invaders and marauders eye our caves
I don’t blame them
as my cave is cozy, moist and safe.
I travel to unknown lands in my journey
and might not even come back
So I forget not to shove my cave in my suitcase
‘cos my cave is cozy, moist and safe.