The vibrant Japan

A free literature ride,
took me to the land of Samurai,
my best black brother, I don't remember, maybe my yellow bhai,
happy and surprised asked me why,
why have you come here, why?
I said, to see heights of technology,
and humanity, if it has survived?

His eyes went round,
he liked my free style.
Then I asked where do you get manga?
He asked, cheap or mahanga?
I said, I don't care,
get me one.
So, he put his right hand on his side,
swoosh he took out his cell,
told me it works only in human hands,
with the heat that it felt.

I said that is fine,
ok get me a bookstore my man,
maybe some coffee, and some Sushi.
So, forty stories high we went for a beer,
he said, look this is Japan,
nothing here now to fear,
radioactive is already our blood,
see it in our great comics,
our baseball, telly games and saki,
where robots and human combine,
only to pass some time,
nuclear reactors are our babies,
of that is human endeavour that will always shine.

A free literature ride,
took me to the land of Samurai.

The Laari Rider

I didn’t succeed to define this livelihood, for it is easy; some say Shakhpbhaji wado, Pasti wado, some something else. They are good talkers and they own four wheelers, otherwise known as hand-carts, good for legs. Rs.6000 it costs to buy one and what it carries is something more valuable- a livelihood, most likely of a family, sometimes an entire village. I hear of their informal involvement in moving India’s economy- a large involvement - moving along.

Then I think, and perhaps accept or accept not, their sweaty feet which glide and run the country; roads not designed for these, they just happen to be, feel its roughness, its fatigue? I also sometimes go to the extent of blaming these Laaries anti-developmental, because they are not mechanised and run purely on sweaty-feet power.

But then I wonder, perhaps un-sub-consciously, are the four wheels of these Laaries symbolic of 'no-change'?  for the times they are a changing, or not-changing?