Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
Bio: Jernail Singh Anand, the author of 150 plus books, is the receipent of the Charter of Morava, the highest Serbian International Award in Creativity, at the 60th Belgrade International Writers Meeting . His name was engraved in the Poets’ Rock in Serbia, a rare honour for an Indian author. He already holds The Franz Kafka Literature Prize, Maxim Gorky International Literary Award, Cross of Peace, and Cross of Literature (Italy) awards.
Dr Anand is Founder Chairperson of the International Academy of Ethics, and an Honorary Member of the Association of Serbian Writers, Belgrade. He is Prof Emeritus in Indian Literature at The European Institute of the Roma Studies and Research Belgrade. Dr Anand is credited with the theory of Bio-text (critical theory). His work has been translated into more than twenty world languages. Author of 9 epics which are regarded as modern classics, Anand has organized 4 International Literary Conferences, latest of them, in Chandigarh.
MUASHRA -I (The Silent Society)
Dr Jernail S Anand
It appears to be silent
And absolutely non responsive.
They don’t get together
When a man needs money
To marry off his daughter
Or when a poor labourer’s son
Is stuck in the middle
And cannot pay his fees.
You will find hundreds in your vicinity
Who lose chances of education
Driven by extreme poverty
Because they lacked the fee.
How unconcerned and how happy are we,
When they are forced to slug it out
Very intelligent of them
Fail to fly in their sky
When you die, and all chatter
Of good or bad ceases to matter
You can hear the happy clatter
Of your cohabitants
Who have no tears but a dig or two
Sharp enough
To pinch you in your trance
A word of sorrow, and then, on with the dance
It is a beehive of Insensitivity
Lying in wait
For a moment of negativity
Heaving a long sigh of anonymity
Drawing out from within
A few words of sympathy
And then forgetting
All about the impoverished household
And small kids who have lost their paternity.
It is the duty of God to stand by them.
God is kind, we are His creation,
He takes care of his men.
We make it bold
To enter back into our happy household
While kitchens next door turn cold
The poor lady sells her gold .
The little girl shuns her class room
And takes to broom.
They are rushing to the shrines in the morning.
And singing hymns day and night
But found in the wrong
When it is time to turn right.
Rich men, instead of sharing their booty,
Dole out misery to the poor swell.
Strip them of sympathy,
Sages and scriptures go to hell.
MUASHRA -II (THE SILENT SOCIETY)
How incompatible I am to the world
Spreading around me
Good or bad, I am part of it
And they are men like me
Who make it up
Yet how difficult I find
To live with it
And retain my distinct identity
If it is insensitive, I am a part of it.
I am not good,
I too harbour a hundred infirmities
I too get in when outside
Injustice is crushing the hapless
I am a little good because
I do not inflict injustice
Which makes me only not so bad
As are those who are active partners of the crime
My fault is I do not speak,
When it was a necessity and my duty to speak
I do not criticize men who in their pride
Make Daraupadis of women
Who can’t stand up to their mite
It is still the dirty world of Dwapra
In which God himself had to come
To defend the righteous
The helpless of this world
Were called upon to unite on the plea
That they had nothing to lose
Except their chains
I still find the hapless sinking into anonymity
And chains ruling the estate
The hunter has transformated into a vote,
Which once cast
Is like a daughter given away.
Can I step out of this flowing river of
Moral depravity?
And start recycling this waste of human
Thought and crooked civility?
I have to put to test
All that goes in the brand name
Of the religious and irreligious
The Best, the Good, the Honest
All these brands are deceptive.
MUASHRA -III (THE SILENT SOCIETY)
There are a hundred academies
And universities
Which teach men
How to lose their head
And turn into commodities
And salesmen
To sell things which
Stale the human taste of mankind.
In this society, all the food
That is fresh and good for health
Is taboo.
Love is a hateful state of mind
Compassion, an ulterior Passion
Peace is suspected of crime
And happiness
A prisoner of pharmacies.
The men who created great philosophies
Are considered out of the world
And they either die in accidents
Or act their kindness
On themselves
Thinking it is better to die
Than live
And thus, thyself deny.
Universities are immune from creatives
Who are suspected of revolutions.
Instead of writing poetry
Which can cause a Shelley here
And a Hamlet there
It is better to teach About Poetry.
Reward those with pensions who
Retire teaching papers on poetry
Without themselves writing a single poem.
I was talking of academies which teach you
And you pay their hefty fees
How to lose your head,
Your heart,
Your emotions,
And how to become an ass
Amassing (am….ass…ing) wealth
And then making trips to Switzerland.
Turning rich, by making the muashra (society) poor.
Is there any one college or university
Which teaches sympathy?
Which teaches love?
Which teaches goodness?
Which teaches the art of creativity?
Which has given a job to a creator?
Creators! Move,move, move
Move out of the doors
Or I call in bouncers!!!!!
