Power

Looking behind that wonderful way,

there’s so much I lived just to say.

The first step was strong, when I was given the power,

when all the time was wrong, and facebook  had all the power.

The country was in crisis and government failed it all

and so did the people with no mercy at all.

The lokpal was all wrong and made the commoner strong,

and so none paid the taxes and no one came to vote.

The economy had ruined with minds travelling lands,

to serve others for same with no one who had an aim.

The army had hardened, but the courts were also locked,

people enjoyed their freedom but did regret this storm.

No one could understand what actually went wrong,

and to fight another revolt, a congress was felt strong.

Then Google joined facebook, to design a contest strong,

to find the one who leads, this country in plight so strong.

Submissions kept pouring and rounds kept happening,

that Friday of result, as sun was shining on,

a boy quite fair but in twenties, had won

making the country of billions shun.

He took to office of huge grandeur,

and was taken to the hill of British galore.

At first he preferred to play football,

in the presidential court’s biggest hall.

He proposed for the Olympics to come

and then invited the FIFA to come.

With no money the country protested,

but he was strong and dint leave detested.

It was the summer of twenty eight

and another summer of thirty now.

We had won the games to host them now,

to show the world what we were now.

The preparations began and we were ten years far,

the money kept pouring from all the far.

The cities were built and roads were built,

to host the games our minds were built.

Work was created with none unemployed,

and the ones with time did double than employed.

Blaming each one was obsolete now,

and cleaning ones street was fashion now.

Great days began with happiness around,

in two years hence we were strong now.

With no problem at all,

this boy had won it all.

We were far from the games, but so much well now,

that others now decided to append to us now.

The amazing our people and beautiful their mind,

we created new world, for religions to bind.

And also the culture and more of the food,

the all time power and created our crude.

All was designed and not just the cities,

the towns, the villages and all the tribal grounds.

We travelled at speeds like never before,

In trains and minds and space much more.

To harness all energy with a positive aim,

for in we remain, our childish same.

The seen unseen

Part - 1
I came down rushing in morning today
and found to be early in morning today.
The office was calm and nothing would move
as I descended, to my chair in rouge.

The speakers are calm and blinders are blind,
the computers don't live our life's so bright,
the books don't see, the phone don't listen,
the keyboards don't type the words they listen.

The world is still as I think of them,
the white tube lights, the cushions behind,
they say no thing,
as I admire their being.

Part - 2
'Woof! they went at least at night,
this man he works all day, all night'.
said the chair standing on fours,
as all now rose and started to shout.

'This day was long as we slept on,
the humans don't know to respect their rat',
the mouses said and running around,
on desktop now and some on ground.

The tubes beamed on
and cushions were chatting,
the papers always complained,
of the places they'd been.

The files then raced with slender wires
the gender was everywhere to prove their power,
the pencils are girls and books are men,
but, footballs are gay as men prefer them.

We learn all night and play all night,
to live our life outside your sight.

Market place

The smoking of kebabs and frying in oil,
I hear the life from every door,
men selling food and women in saris,
I hear the streets of old Lahore.

The prices are cheap but not all can afford,
a twenty rupee meal is far to afford,
but the samosas are pretty and tangier the chats,
I remember them all as I go home past.

I came in for a while and loved this place,
and liked the life that's still alive late.

The people are beautiful and great at every time.
as every time is fun and filled with pun.

The yellowing streets with no halogen,
the pale rabdis talk to the sun to help them brighten.

I pass them everyday and every coming evening,
to see them smile again with their sweaty faces gleaming.
Today it was late and as I was passing by,
the market  was almost shut and some were bidding byes.

I bought a ragda samosa and as I passed the chowk,
a women quite old still sat to count all that she had earned,
she tied all the stoles in two huge plastic bags,
and sat down counting with every little that she ever learned.

A note of five and ten and few small coins of one and two's
it just managed to cross thirty with all day in the sun.
I was blank and numb now,
holding a samosa for a mere ten.

But then she was pleased
and happily took the bags, on one shoulder each
and walked from the Chowk,
to a dark road inside.

My next day was last here,
I went back the same way,
then bought these incredible Sindhi stoles
and left for my home back in Norway.

As I paid her at dawn,she was so contained,
she looked like the sum of all the Plato's claim.