PROF BADRI RAINA | Caravan Daily
Remember the time when
The hope was rife
That as the operations of lucre
Got cruder and all-encompassing
Crass, out of that critical mass
Of perfidy would be born
A brighter new sun.
While we sang songs of lovely
Inevitability and warm camaraderie,
Cocooned in our conviction
Of correctness, history, by
Which we swore, was honing
A far crueler knife than the one
The customary assassin of reason bore.
We were correct on the Left,
They were puissant on the Right;
We clung to love and oneness.
They scored high through fright.
They became cleverer by the day,
We looked for the needle in the hay.
They sang wicked hosannas
To gods, but worked to capture
The earth; we sang of all things earthy.
But lost in the haze of an idea
That never took birth.
Trumped as we are for now,
And Modified into post-truth,
Do not let us jettison the glow
Of our striving for some beautiful
Truth; but let not our exertions
Cock a snook at cleverness; let
Us learn to use the weapons our
Enemies use with greater finesse
The purity of thought is often
A great misleader; no book ever
Written has had an ideal reader.
Let us learn to make of dreams
Workable actions; let no faction
Seek to be above all factions.