Kafkaesque Nightmare

Written in late 2011 when Calcutta, the city I belong to, was witness to more than one Kafkaesque scenario.
Hello, welcome!
To your special
Kafkaesque nightmare.
It has blue roads
And London skies,
It has traffic jams
And Rabindrasangeet for lullabies.
It has a woman
Swathed in a sari,
Which is white
With blue stripes.
No she isn’t the Mother,
But you nearly got it right.
She is the blessed Sister,
Who will calm all your fears.
She will tell you
Rapes and murders don’t
Really happen,
They are just lies
Don’t let them Disturb you,
They are just images
For political satires
That your dream amply provides.

She is powerful,
This woman,
She can chain
The waters of rivers
And share them
With nobody else,
As easily as she can
Bend your minds.
She is here to educate you.
She will take the
Unruly doodling pencil
Out of your hands
And replace it with
A pen,
And dictate some lines:
She will say-
Write I am a Communist
And you will be forced
To oblige.
Or be sent into
Purgatory
Where there will be
Enough walls to
Malign
With the dirty graffiti
Painted in your minds.
And the fires that
You shall encounter there,
Will not be red.
No nothing can survive
That is incarnadine.
The rainbows in
Your dream
Yes there will be
Rainbows,
For Sister loves the blue in them,
Will appear with
An amputated leg.
Red is for anger
Red is for rebellion
And here after yellow,
And a nearly-seditious orange
You will see a second,
Bilious blue instead.

You will all hailT
he land of Paschimbanga.
And you will say it just right.
You will say you love Sister-

She’s tied you (with) the protective thread.
You will not suspect that she is godless;
But believe her when she says she worships her ‘Maa’.
You will not wonder what stuff she is made of;
‘Mati’ is what she told you,
and you dare not scrape her to check.
If you ever forget whom she cares for the most,
Remember, it is you- ‘Manush’ and not herself.
And since that is one thing you can be absolutely sure of,
You can tell yourself that you were correct
When you thought Sister isn’t human,
But something else instead.
For certainly it needs
A spectral hand to write
And thaumaturgical powers to conjure into reality
Dreams such as these.
And with that I wish you have a happy stay
For there is no immediate release
From your special
Kafkaesque nightmare

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