Poems by Ramanujam Meganathan

Consumer of History

a poem by Ramanujam Meganathan

Banking on inherited memories rejuvenates me.
As and when I remember the memories
That me and my people long to cherish
And those me and my people despise to relish
To remember not as memoirs
But as inerasable scars.
The nation, the geography, the war, the leaders
The language, the temples, the forts and those statues,
And the ethnicity
Then comes the innate xenophobia
That declares me and my people as more equal than others;
And others do live in History’s mischief,
Bloodshed as part of the living
And for the living of me and my people,
And the making of the histories
That I and my people have today
As glorious moments of the past for the present
But for those who produced this wicked ‘hero’
That is unexplainable.
The Unforgettable’s enigmatic inexplicable
And this makes me feel the heroic deeds
And the unheroic moments as great periods
And people who built that fort and this temple.
I only consume History.

Producer of History

a poem by Ramanujam Meganathan

Learning from the past bloopers
I reconstruct the future through THIS present.
And those present here.
There is NO present as such
For humans live in past glories
And memories that are painful
To think about the future
And the prospective futures.
Those (are) perceived either in fear or in hyper ambitions.
The past seems to me
A mere wars- the wars fought
For a feudal by feudals
Or those whose slaves-
(Both physical and social)
Those kings and their courtesans
Those numerous wives and those concubines
The titles and the moribund army
The modern PROMOTERS of democracy
Yet the common man was ‘there’
But not living.
I exterminate all the above
Including the democracy,
The dictatorship of the prolitere,
The religious kingdom, the Islamic republic.
Egalitarian society for all- the inclusive growth.
I will have equality
Where people are equal
In all but something
Giving room for
Those like I who would like to produce
History- future history.
I produce History
Not for History’s sake
For myself– my sake.

When a rape happens

a poem by Ramanujam Meganathan

When a rape happens or
When a rape is performed
Every one wakes up, gets outraged, infuriated
Finds moving phrases that affront the rapist
Leading to agitations at the India Gate and Jantar Mantar.
Everyone has a say,
Exasperations, vexations of all sorts.
President expresses his shock and displeasure.
Some popular neta says, “Boys are boys.”
Some sacrosanct puritan calls for stringent laws for women.
Dress code for women.
It is their dress which exposed their flesh
Causing the rape.
It is the raped who should take the blame.
The rapist will script stringent and austere regulations.
Hues and Cries and Cries and Hues.
We have to do something.
Meanwhile another rape.
Rape and murder follow strictly.
Blame the Chief Minister, Prime Minister
As another minister from another state rapes a teenager.
Whole country debates and discourses about law.
Commission is appointed, nationwide debates.
There seems to be change is coming.
Anti-rape law enacted.
Rapist multiplied.
It is now reported, women are courageous now.
The fucking law is working.
Law is curing the disease, not preventing it.
Why this fucking rascals indulge in rape
In this great country of traditions and God fearing rich cultured people.