Two headlines
A woman sitting in the corner of a broken hut,
With her four kids around,
Her empty stomach makes the sound of bubbling,
A mourning music on the death of humanity,
An emptiness runs through her veins,
Emptiness of deprivation,
She is being deprived of something,
Which is must to keep her alive,
She comes on the street,
Full of the sounds of vehicles,
Her own voice is lost in this clamour,
She clings her children and cries in pain,
'Help, somebody help',
But no one takes pain to behold this sight,
She stops at a door and peeps
Through the window to beg something,
To have control over her skipping breath,
But to her amazement,
Doggies are being fed with milk and roasted meat,
Her heart chokes,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Summer Ordeal
These days the sun is excessively hot,
We can't see even the bright firmament with naked eyes,
The drops of perspiration shine on the body all the time,
Peace and comfort, the boons of winter,
Are no more with us now,
The nights are spent in getting stung by the mosquitos,
The days in wiping out the tears of the body,
Hunger and sleep are lost somewhere
In the ordeal,
The whole life has turned monotonous,
The delicate sentiments of love, care and compassion,
Has been overtaken by the intensity of heat,
There is a havoc all around,
Everybody is looking at the sky,
But there is no sign of respite,
Not to speak of human being,
There is also a havoc in the animal kingdom,
The innocent dumb creatures are dying with thirst,
Nature seems to be sturn in retribution,
Yet the life is moving in the hope of betterment,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Amar Singh, A Political Middleman
A political middleman,
Other's weakness is his greatest strength,
Trusts only himself
And likes to be trusted,
A political commission agent,
Helps others bail out of their problems,
On hefty commission,
He is adept in the art of making wrong
A perfect right,
He is loquacious, And people take delight in this habit,
First he saves himself,
And then growls at others,
A perfect baldy and short man,
But ranks himself among film stars,
He is favourite to the star of the millenium,
Who is extremely cautious about his image,
But I am sorry to make out
In what way he(Mr. Bachchan) will be able to save his image
In the company of a middleman,
He(the middleman) has hitherto been able to save himself,
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Cricket World Cup
It is the greatest thrilling event
of our country,
The whole world may not take it seriously
But we take it,
All the activities come to standstill
Office, schools, business centres
Wear deserted look
People go crazy,
They forget everything in the storm of the event
Money flows like water and people are
Oblivious of the fact that three fourth of
Our population is still deprived of
The basic requirements of their life.
I can't understand why these people don't show
The same madness for the eradication of Poverty, corruption, illeteracy, and communalism,
They make so much hue and cry,
Their faces down cast,
when India suffers a defeat.
These elements also cause the country a massive defeat
But their same tongues turn mum
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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Our Indian politicians
Clad in white clothes from top to bottom,
These bright smiling faces are the symbol of our politics,
They determine the destiny of our country,
They are worried over the country's progress
As well as their commission,
They get in the work budget,
They are busy in siphoning off people's money.
Their exterior is very bright
But the interior is very dark,
They are eating away the country
As the white ant
eats away the wood.
They are hounds in the guise of
goat,
Who eats away its own little ones.
Their palatial residence,
Their fleet of luxury cars,
Are evident
Of their illegitimate earnings,
They can put even their country at stake
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poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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A Praise, A Prayer
Cherisher, sustainer, providence,
Nobody is like Thee,
Oneness is Thy quality,
Thou art the Master of all the worlds,
Omnipotent, Omniscient
And Omnipresent thou are,
Thou make, Thou mar,
Reward,
retribution
everything is in Thy
Hands,
Who will escape from Thee?
Yet they don't think and
impose war on the poor,
The entire land belongs to thee,
Thou art the unconditional King,
Everyone is at thy service,
Satan is thine, men are thine
And of course angels,
All of them are occupied with their duties,
[...] Read more
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir
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