Saturday, 14 August 2010

f For Freedom

She was a model
A model of haute couture.
So high that it was designed directly by God.
Pot-bellied men and voluptuous women
Sat awaiting the next item.
And then, she walked along the catwalk
Not flaunting but apologetic
Of her near nudity.
Tattered clothes barely covering her.
A young body, all of fifteeen years.
A small child
In the crook of her left arm,
Held as a prize, a memento for
The depravity and avarice of men
A wonderful fashion statement!

She looked straight ahead
At the pole bearing the tri-colour,
A remarkable symbol of
Sixty-three years of independence.
A sign of our freedom.
Freedom from what?
Well, never mind, freedom,
F-R-E-E-D-O-M and Independence.

She walked right up to the tiranga
And tugged at the rope
And brought down the flag
And wrapped it around her and the child.

And then for the final denouement
She brought out a bowl
And held it out
From beneath the Ashoka Chakra
To the guardians of fashion;
, she said, Always stood for food.

Lets not forget it when we celebrate our Independence Day yet again.


  1. OMG, it's hard hitting!!Hope many more people read it.

  2. Ravi, you have well articulated the thoughts that many of us share but the brute majority is having their way. It really sad that after 63 years of freedom there no freedom from hunger for vast numbers, this is real national shame

  3. Beautiful poem with b'ful synonyms for letter "f". We see the real meaning of the word freedom thats DAMN cared ! keep writing such poems. :)


I welcome all your comments as long as these are not vituperative, use obscene language and are communal