Scalp Hunter

When every gesture of peace is a dud,
One sees blood flow like a rowdy flood:

When the single sign of love wanes like the Moon
Tempers are readily frayed on a blazing afternoon:

Hatred is poured into every handy pot to fill
Like a potion, even a mere look suffices to kill:

Man kill man—on a swagger you lay a fancy bet
Knowing the figures he’ll simply shoot and forget:

Numbers do matter when he pulls the trigger
Lest he miss and hear the dreaded snigger:

“Kaafir”,”Infidel”…. each scalp is a coveted one
A variety in color and creed only adds to the fun:

A sang froid that’s confirmed with an expression so dour
After all, affirms the dogmatic initiation at the age of four:


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About Kumaara Sukeja

As for my bio-tidbits, had studied English Literature for my B.A ( Hons.) degree in the 70s.Dad was a writer and a journalist of repute in the vernacular media in his time. There were also others before him in the family who had celebrated works in their names in the Kanarese, the local language.I was fascinated by Ogden Nash for one for his originality. Among the literary devices, I have almost a weakness for Alliteration and Rhyme schemes also come easy to me. As one grows mellow with age—I am Sixty–I guess, Empathy is one virtue that develops in the character, naturally, after shedding a lot of flab throughout the years…Although my name is Ramesha, I prefer to write under my pen name.

6 thoughts on “Scalp Hunter

  1. pramilakhadun

    Beautifully depicting some of the harsh realities of life where violence is rampant, and brother hates brother……….great poem.


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