Millions, Billions, Trillions
I know not.

French kiss or Indian hugs,
I know not.

Social contacts, HIV or cancer,
I know not.

Party food, roast dog meat, or fried bacon,
I know not.

I am not Celia’s Song of Jonson,
Or Dickinson’s sandal table,

I am free and bold,
Walk in hot or cold,

In Chapel, Mosque, Temple,
Gurudwara or be it Synagogue.

Anywhere everywhere,
Any time all time

On the lock of your iron shell,
Wherein lies heaps of pearls,
Diamonds and gold,
Dipped in human blood,

I live there in the squeezed hands
Of Prince and Princess, and
Shine brightly on the clanks of wine glasses

In the hands of State Heads.

I live on the red lips of Miss Universe,

I live on cherry chins of Mistress
In her brass bed of passion of the cozy home,
I am there.
Fight me if you dare,

I have put my signature as:
‘The World is closed today’

I am out and walk proudly,
Fearless Patriarch not to be seen

And you all imprisoned in your egg shell.
It’s I: your Corona micro baby.
Now out from the punctured pink balloon,
That was thrown on the silky road of Wuhan.

I am spiky and colorless from the colored;
Rose up from a sharp and shiny nails of mortal beauty
And danced in the eyes of Maneka.

How poor that man gazing out from the window
As turtle walks shaking head
To see the clear blue sky.
‘Get in… I the COVID command you.
Don’t you see__
I am speechless,
But not hopeless and hapless
At any boundary of The Great Wall of China.

I did mine. Now you do yours.
I am not the furious fire of Amazon,
I am not high tides in the ocean of Tokyo,
I am not the deep earth crack of Latoor,
And the Hurricanes of America.
You all sleep in silence and buzz not of me
That has fallen as broken star on your earth planet.
I am your own COVID.

Madani Mohiuddin Ahmad
King Saud University, Riyadh, KSA

The Election Commission of India is responsible for executing free and fair elections across the country. This is one of the most respectful institutions constitutionally empowered to exercise its power in letter and spirit. Challenges are many but the foremost is the abuse of black money by the candidates. Be it anything, their sole purpose is to win the election. Tainted politicians, regardless of their magnitude of criminal history, they manage to win elections and reach the parliament.

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Call this country by any name, still the average Indian breaths in immortal India. Mere geographical boundary and ethnic background of an individual has never been the only attraction to any stranger of different race or community across the world who thought of visiting India or even invading it.

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Hymns and hums alongside the blowing conch is the daily remarked arrival of the sun at the edge of the river Ganges in Banaras. This elegant and magnanimous picture remained always tagged with me until the moment of my departure from Delhi where I was a second year graduate student in 1983.

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(The picture on the left taken on Friday morning on March 7, 2014 showing the side wall of the mosque in the down town of central Riyadh, KSA)

Who is caring this unattended slander beauty? Abandoned though, but attracts one’s irresistible sensibility on its visual and selfless invitation.

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Hung Delhi Assembly is ironic and an indication of democratic outlaw. 65% poll is a proof in itself that the majority of the people want the formation of the government. How pity that people have registered their opinion under the provision of the constitutional obligation but failed to have a legal government? Coalition mantra is not working; horse trading is very risky as the size of the total seat is just 62. What a bad arithmetic!

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