Shared joys

‘System is too corrupt,’ my friend bursts

i stay cool and offer my May musings

‘system is not corrupt, we are.

who make the system, you, I.

it’s minions’ rule, clay-foot, pig-heart,

thick-skin, vultures waiting for dead cow.

who suffer? the tillers, the traders, we all.

who profit? the quadruped.

friend, blame not the air or sky or stars

shoot the lily-livered gentlemen,

opportunistic torchbearers, hands

ready to strangle the wretched, hands

ready to touch the empowered feet,

ever set to pledge honour of our sisters

not for climbing mountains, to fish in murky pools.

let’s be shooters and shoot the traitors, the looters

of our land, the barterer of our honour.

let the ants be burnt in hot pans,

let the rats be killed in open air.

let’s unfurl wings against the stormy skies

let’s be freed from blackguards, the living-dead,’ so i say,

and end the day.

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Abu Siddik

Abu Siddik

It's all about the unsung , nameless men and women around us. I try to portray them through my tales. I praise their undying suffering and immaculate beauty. And their resilience to life's vicissitudes, oddities, and crudities I admire. They are my soulmates who inspire me to look beyond the visible, the known, the common facade of the educated and the intellectuals.

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Subhash Chandra
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"A gifted writer"

A gifted versetile writer who writes excellent stories and poems on the invisibles, pariahs, margins, aged, weaklings of our society. A rising star on the literary firmament.
Santosh Bakaya
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Praise for my writing

“Your story Undersell left me with a lump in my throat, so did your poem, He also lights candles.”
Louis Kasatkin
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Praise for my poem "Elderly Men Two"

"A finely honed observational piece recording the minutiae of everyday life. Rendered with the author’s customary poetic aplomb suffused with a Borges like quality of the mythic."

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