Monday, October 21, 2019

my dear Gurjari




merchant of Venice,
trader of Taipei,
investor of Indonesia.
i invite them all in the investment summits --
from everywhere
every year.

pasture, hamlet, hillock, seashore, jungle --
i can even give them a pound of flesh of any denizen
in exchange of gold.

these auspicious pitchers planted on the Sabarmati river bank,
these holy temple domes,
those colourful kites in the festival of uttarayan
this Miyanbhai's dog and that Ramjibhai's rabbit
this old man's specs, spinning wheel and his loin-cloth

those shanties and basties across the river,
that big broom in the hand of that scavenger woman
that beggar woman's bowl
this jobless mill-worker's seat-less ramshackle bicycle
that certificate of a job-hunting university graduate -

they are all made of gold,
pure 24-carat gold.
it is golden, golden, golden everywhere !

you are unnecessarily doubting on this golden deer.
this deer is grazing with no intention of abducting.

no, i am not magician, nor rakshas king.
not only your bodice, dear
i want to turn all of you into gold,
like those golden girls of Shanghai and Dubai.

how long will you wait to cross that Lakhamanrekha,
drawn far behind that BPLine ?
i want to make you global goddess,
more glittering than that Statue of Liberty
on your golden jubilee birth anniversary.

i am your lover,
madly in love with you, my dear Gurjari !

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