Many questions… a lot of tragedy

a poem by Bahadur Basha Gooty

Where is my capital, was founded on the bank of my river,
Who occupied?
Where was my pact, who was buried?

Where is my Bellary, it grows on mine coast
Hampi perennial stream was diverted, increased my famine
I was deceived by the river’s dams

Where is my Musk fragrances?
Where is Rghava’s acted theatre?
Where are the street drama?
Where are the Kolatam and puppetry’s rush?
Folk song’s auditorium?

Telugu culture has vanished due to tobacco and commercial cinema overflow
In the past, our generation’s affection is dedicated on posters of top actors
At present, our successors has been garland of sheep heads to actors heir cut-outs
A tragedy movie

The Rayalaseema soil’s prowess was made as films
Every scene has demonic tasks
Once hero hit his thigh, shouted with hoarse voice,
It breaks the box office records
Our insulting rituals are expressed in the villain’s voice