Blasting children into smithereens, raping women as they dare step on the street,Strutting the neighbourhood in menacing heat
Badri Raina Delhi
Reason is a thin thing,
Like vein of gold among mounds
Of accreted rubble and hardened rock
In the interstices of habitual brain.
Alas, the so resistant fear of overthrow
Often turns what little grain there be to dross.
Yet, when nations go kaput, they turn to gold;
Not so we humans. We sell our gold
To glittering merchants of pelf, prejudice, profit,
And blood-dripping superstitions untold.
Unlike currencies of the day, now of value,
Now of worthless content, gold holds
To its sheen and substance, beyond the rust
Of calculation; as does reason,
If only we had the imagination.
Unreasons of the moment dance,
Amid the advances that bear no question,
Blasting children into smithereens, raping
Women as they dare step on the street,
Strutting the neighbourhood in menacing heat.
Like some hidden god, defeated
By her own creation,
Reason withdraws its current into
Some hidden pool, leaving unreason
To occupy nursery and school.
Among the day’s wise men, reason
Looks on , content to be the persistent fool.