Sharing an old poem discussing state, freedom and right to abortion

A congress-mukt Bharat is a concept that I embraced. Little did I know that the party would fold like a pack of cards. Anyway, this seemed like an appropriate time to share an old poem that I’d written.

This was written a short while after the death of my father and grandmother. In my drunken stupor, I had a conversation with future unborn child on why I decided to kill it before it was ever born. The question jetting through my mind was, “Does freedom exist?”

We are slaves,
Yes, darling we are,
What can we do, you ask, 
Stare at the sky,
Look at it with me love,
So blue… So clear,
Reflection of earth’s purity,
I render not.

Controlled, handled, easy,
Words a shame to an industrious man,
A scam they proclaim him to be,
Fool! They decree! You are wrong!

Judged, prosecuted, forgotten,
Words a shame to the righteous man,
But under the veil of religion and pain,
Depravity becomes the eventuality of freedom.

Freedom existed,
A time long ago…
When eyes comprehended nature (not codified language),
Today persecuted as hippies,
Killed as terrorists, naxals(brothers?), 
Anti-personality is anti-national,
State is the autocrat, 
But, like a parent it’s always right?

My baby you were to be born,
I chose to kill you…
I committed a sin,
Before, you ever ranted the words,
What is freedom?
Why do we exist?
Why am I here?
I wish I was never born!

Baby in your sleep I killed you,
I love you… so I killed you.


Originally published 6th May, 2010. Updated with edits 14th July, 2017. As pointed by a friend the last two lines seem to be inspired by a Guns & Roses song, not sure which one. Any guesses?