A class was held,
Expecting mothers sat in a row,
ready for a fruitful lecture
from the most erudite scholars.
Their babies were expected
to add to the light of their world soon,
resting in dark for the few blessed days.
Class had all arrangements
to dress up the thirty upcoming leaders
with cloaks of treachery.
There were lectures on identity,
a favourite topic with the learned elites.
Talks on race, caste, religion
topped the pudding.
Talks on mannerisms, grooming, polishing,
Losing the inherent human etch,
Losing the real breath
connection with the universe .
Do’s and not do’s garnished
the food of living.
Very soon,
programmed and chipped beings
with two arms and
two legs
would grace the earth
and prepare lectures for unborn generations.
An incisive and engaging satire.Lovely!
Thank you Vijay sir
An seriously acerbic piece rendered with consummate poetic aplomb.
a powerful poem shattering the veneer of elite learned. ‘losing the real breath of connection’ yes. with each passing day we are programmed, chipped to deliver a pint of salty water to countless born , unborn.
Interesting satire
Thank you Louis sir, Sid and Pushmaotee ji