Vernaculars

a poem by Wali S T Dr.

Mostly inaccurate and inexact,
Seldom ahead behind all the times,
Like the rusty pendulum clock:
Atop an old clock tower
Fixed in the heart of a sleepy town.

We worship power,
Oft we spread discontent.
We honor political thugs,
Clowns, and all kinds of touts.
We create news; else we invent.
Ever ready to distort facts
Proud to print government hand-outs

Editorialise and sensationalise
Insert views in news
Defile virtue, we glorify crimes
It is always wise
To co-operate with the powers-that-be,
Readily, just faithfully.

It’s our job to manufacture consent
Yes, we’re the conscience-keepers
Self-appointed guardians
Of Indian democracy
And Establishment.

We’re, dear citizens,
Vernaculars:
The Indian newspapers!