I like my cows walking proud,
their bellies full of green grass,
and dry fodder, but no cancer plastic.
I like them walking fearless,
not butchered on open streets,
by educated men, who wear
bloodied hooves as mufflers,
and eat raw guts,
dripping red,
like some Neanderthal mob.
I like my cows walking strong,
their innocent asymmetry
rolling on Indian streets,
adding more chaos, colours and life.
I won’t call my cows holy or mother.
I’d rather like, they live unmolested
in the human jungle, more equal than others.
Just as I don’t call my women
goddesses, worshiped in holy texts,
and molested on streets.
When I smell blood of cows,
I smell a future pregnant with elections.
This I don’t smell when you gut a lamb,
twist the neck and pluck feathers of a chicken,
barbecue a dog alive in Nagaland,
or marinate a salmon, all creations of a lesser deity.
I smell it when you kill a cow
and capture its killing on camera
to be shared and made viral
for spreading hate on both sides.
My cows are cows simple and pure,
not politics walking,
on four cattle legs,
or hate and religion
dressed in flesh, horns and hooves.
I like my cows walking proud,
but I love men more,
acting human, choosing wisely.
I like humans exercise choices,
unafraid and free.
I like cows alive, walking, elite, mundane,
with magic only in their being,
not in urine or dung.
I like cows minus mythology or politics.
Yet, I love little men more
‘spite of their failures
and lack of humanity.
Men might learn to be human,
if they stay alive
and given freedom to choose.
©2017, Bhupendra Singh
Beautifully written!
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Wow, that is powerful!
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Very talented with your poetry!
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Thanks. Still learning.
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Sir …..this work of yours is a masterpiece…..Iam blessed to witness your vast intellegence,wisdom…..there in my school days…amidst those mountains…was school….classrooms and you……enlightening your students
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Thank you. I wish that you, & all my students, go and achieve success and happiness.
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