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India has been contributing very much to the reconstruction of Afghanistan; we are strongly engaged there.

quote by Joschka Fischer
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Wake! Asia! Wake! (Part One)

Part One

It is night yet in the West
and the planes land between listlessly burning tarmac lamps
stealthy fingers scurrying through diadems of neons halogens and amber
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

The cowherds' bare blistered feet already trample yesterday's dust into mud
and cartwheels strain in crusted fissures where rains only once or twice fell
while dreams fester in cosy centrally-heated silken beds in luxury flats
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Tomorrow is yesteryear's planned strikes
buses trains taxis office machines lie soundlessly asleep
and will not wake until the battle over psychic comfort comes to an end
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

For You there is no respite no pause
no tea-breaks with cheese biscuits or croissants
there's only the last container to crane over the dock in unpaid overtime
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Your eyes will hurt in the twilight's hazy glimmer
no time to brush your teeth nor shave in hot and cold running water
nor the right to flush a toilet nor heedlessly course through in cosy tubes to work
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

The sirens rave through boulevards in broad night-light
rushing hypertensic cardiac cases from their delight-full beds
cholestrol and diabetic cane sugar within reach of every child in supermarkets
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Let those who succeeded their former masters
sip their sweet sweatless porto before the hors-d'oeuvres
and flap their tabliers hiding their secret shame under cabalistic arms
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Wake! there's little time left for your own bickering differences to fester
the dawn signals the tasks that lie ahead unfinished
and the carrion hunters trained in their old master's image club together
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Wake! and see the extent to which you're still enslaved
enslaved by your own kind who hanker after conditioning platitudes
the clubby comfort of secretly oath-taking power cliques
Wake! O! Asia! Wake!

Remember! Remember Haidar Ali his son Tipu and Akbar
remember Sivaji and Chandra Bose and Kattapomman and Asoka
remember O! remember the one and only Mahatma

[...] Read more

poem by T. Wignesan
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India

India, India, India
India, India, clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
I'm a pauper bereft of spiritual vision
Looking for a guru such a decision
India, India, India
Clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
I'm a conscious consumer
but there's nothing to consume
Lotus flowers are still in bloom in
India, India, India
India, India, clarified butter from the holy cow
India, India, India
India, India
India, India

song performed by X-Ray Spex
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The Sale of Saint Thomas

A quay with vessels moored

Thomas
To India! Yea, here I may take ship;
From here the courses go over the seas,
Along which the intent prows wonderfully
Nose like lean hounds, and tack their journeys out,
Making for harbours as some sleuth was laid
For them to follow on their shifting road.
Again I front my appointed ministry. --
But why the Indian lot to me? Why mine
Such fearful gospelling? For the Lord knew
What a frail soul He gave me, and a heart
Lame and unlikely for the large events. --
And this is worse than Baghdad! though that was
A fearful brink of travel. But if the lots,
That gave to me the Indian duty, were
Shuffled by the unseen skill of Heaven, surely
That fear of mine in Baghdad was the same
Marvellous Hand working again, to guard
The landward gate of India from me. There
I stood, waiting in the weak early dawn
To start my journey; the great caravan's
Strange cattle with their snoring breaths made steam
Upon the air, and (as I thought) sadly
The beasts at market-booths and awnings gay
Of shops, the city's comfortable trade,
Lookt, and then into months of plodding lookt.
And swiftly on my brain there came a wind
Of vision; and I saw the road mapt out
Along the desert with a chalk of bones;
I saw a famine and the Afghan greed
Waiting for us, spears at our throats, all we
Made women by our hunger; and I saw
Gigantic thirst grieving our mouths with dust,
Scattering up against our breathing salt
Of blown dried dung, till the taste eat like fires
Of a wild vinegar into our sheathèd marrows;
And a sudden decay thicken'd all our bloods
As rotten leaves in fall will baulk a stream;
Then my kill'd life the muncht food of jackals. --
The wind of vision died in my brain; and lo,
The jangling of the caravan's long gait
Was small as the luting of a breeze in grass
Upon my ears. Into the waiting thirst
Camels and merchants all were gone, while I
Had been in my amazement. Was this not
A sign? God with a vision tript me, lest
Those tall fiends that ken for my approach

[...] Read more

poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
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The Queen of Jhansi

1st Stanza

The throne was shaken and tensions rose among the Raajvanshs, the royal heirs,
In aged India, new ideas were taking hold,
The people of all India lamented their lost freedom,
And decided to cast off British rule,
Old swords glittered anew as the freedom movement of 1857 started.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

2nd Stanza

She was as dear to the Nana (Nana Ghunghupant) of Kanpur as his real sister,
Laxmibai was her name, her parents only daughter
She'd been with Nana since her schoolgirl days
The spear, knife, sword, and axe were her constant companions.
She knew by heart the tales of valor of Shivaji
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

3rd Stanza

None were sure, was she Laxmi or Durga devi or Devi durga reincarnate?
The people of Marathward were awed by her (expertise) skill with the sword,
They learned from her how to fight, the strategy of war,
To attack and humiliate the enemy were her favorite sports.
Her love for Maharashatra-kul-Devi was equaled only by her love for Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
8) So was the Queen of Jhansi.

4th Stanza

Laxmibai was married in Jhansi, with great jubilation
Entering the joyous city as Queen,
Grand celebrations were held in the palace in Jhansi, in honor of her coming.
Just as when Chitra met Arjun or Shiv had found his beloved Bhavani.
The Bandelas and Harbolas sang once again of the courage of the Queen of Jhansi,
How she fought like a man against the British intruders,
So was the Queen of Jhansi.

5th Stanza

Her presence was a blessing at the palace of Jhansi and candles of celebration burned long
But as days passed the dark clouds of misfortune overshadowed the royal palace.
She put aside her bangles and prepared for battle
For fate was unkind and made her a widow

[...] Read more

poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan
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~trillion Dollar War~

"Ours is not to question why"
So many soldiers n' contractors die,
In a hostile Country far away
As a once great Nation begins decay

ROTMS

Here a few more numbers to keep in mind as we approach the 2014 deadline for withdrawal of US combat forces:

68,000: The number of US troops still stationed in Afghanistan.

117,227: The total number of Department of Defense contractors working in Afghanistan.

34,765: The number of US citizens working as contractors in Afghanistan.

9,355: The number of civilian casualties in Afghanistan since Obama took office.

18,553: The total number of civilian casualties since the war started.

1491: The number of US troop casualties in Afghanistan since Obama took office.

2121: The total number of US troop casualties since the war started.

$385,600,000,000: The estimated financial cost of the war in Afghanistan to the US taxpayer since Obama took office.

$557,300,000,000: The estimated financial cost of the war in Afghanistan to the US taxpayer since October 7,2001.

View ROTMS writings, images and video at;

rotms.blogspot.com

poem by Ray Lucero
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The Sorcerer: Act II

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

Sir Marmaduke Pointdextre, an Elderly Baronet

Alexis, of the Grenadier Guards--His Son

Dr. Daly, Vicar of Ploverleigh

John Wellington Wells, of J. W. Wells & Co., Family Sorcerers

Lady Sangazure, a Lady of Ancient Lineage

Aline, Her Daughter--betrothed to Alexis

Mrs. Partlet, a Pew-Opener

Constance, her Daughter

Chorus of Villagers

(Twelve hours are supposed to elapse between Acts I and II)

ACT II-- Grounds of Sir Marmaduke's Mansion, Midnight

Scene--Exterior of Sir Marmaduke's mansion by moonlight. All the
peasantry are discovered asleep on the ground, as at the end
of Act I.

Enter Mr. Wells, on tiptoe, followed by Alexis and Aline. Mr. Wells
carries a dark lantern.

TRIO--ALEXIS, ALINE, and MR. WELLS

'Tis twelve, I think,
And at this mystic hour
The magic drink
Should manifest its power.
Oh, slumbering forms,
How little ye have guessed
That fire that warms
Each apathetic breast!

ALEXIS. But stay, my father is not here!

ALINE. And pray where is my mother dear?

MR. WELLS. I did not think it meet to see
A dame of lengthy pedigree,

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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India What Will You Teach This World?

India a continent old trade vast
India rich in philosophy religions
India steeped in ancient traditions
India a wealth of diverse cultures
India wisdom weeps crosses centuries

India you are supposed to be proud
India you are supposed to share
India your heritage with lost world
India you are supposed to share
Wisdom a covet west has forsaken

poem by Terence George Craddock
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India Independence Day

India is a nation
Pride and bright
Its not people or misdeed
India is extraterrestrial music
Music of India is for globe wide
From far and wide corner of the world
India is a reality of significance of life.

I am proud to be Indian
Serve my country to strengthen
Ties with globe far and wide
To the height of sky blue
I Love my India

Motherland of beauty -India
Visit once life time
Feel the love of Indians
Charming guys and pretty ladies
Scrolling down the valley

Life of freedom to it imagination
Imagination of love and joy
Experience of India is unforgettable

Minute round words of magical glow
I love your India chanting by you
Oh...Yes … I love my India - Jai Hind

copyright: 15th August 2010
Written by Ezna Stephna
Fiji
To mark - 15th August Independence Day

poem by Ezna Stephna
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Reconstruction Left Iraq No Electricity

Reconstruction left
Iraq no electricity
no clean water why?

Tony Blair claimed
reconstruction need
not be rushed.

NATO the military
intentionally targeted
Iraq's water system.

Six years of occupation
later 2009 only oil plus pipelines
had been fixed properly?

Why was humane providing
essential water electricity
to Iraqi's not important?

To quote Blair
'they might have blown
up oil production'.

Lawyer Blair
inhumane ad hoc solutions
'I think' were unprofessional.

Ignored potential
Sunni Shia collapse
policy was secure Iraqi oil.

A power vacuum
was created dismantling
Bath Party Iraqi army.

Now truth and tell time
six years post U.S. Iraq invasion
36 percent of Baghdad's

drinking water is unclean unsafe
claims Iraqi Environment Ministry
in a good month most water is bad.

Yes each bad water month is an appalling
90 percent; cholera broke out in summer 2008;
officials fear outbreaks every fat oil year.

Everybody complains about
bad water in Baghdad except

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Lets Stay Engaged

It might be late
but it won't be early
you got me to the gate
with time for a coffee
it's getting late
sounds like a departure
it's getting close
sounds to me like a departure
Until we meet again
lets stay engaged
until then
lets stay engaged

Lies over time
float to the surface
lies over time
they equal surface
lies over time
though the reasons desert us
lies over time
with no apparent purpose
Until we meet again
lets stay engaged
until then
lets stay engaged

See the dead art
and you see your reflection
fear no art
and you fear no reflection
but don't look at me
I'm not the artist in question
sounds good to me
but I'm not the artist in question
Until we meet again
lets stay engaged
until then
lets stay engaged

song performed by The Tragically Hip from Trouble At The Henhouse
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The War Game

I am buried by time,
I am buried by love;
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.
I am buried by the heat,
I am buried by the cold,
I am buried by the wings of nature!
Like life from Herat in Afghanistan.

Keep talking it,
Keep saying it,
Keep doing it,
Keep walking it,
Keep dancing it,
Keep swinging it,
Keep climbing it,
Keep trying it,
Keep asking it,
Keep working it,
Keep moving it,
Keep flying it,
Keep acting it,
All in the time frame to be buried;
Like the War Game in Afghanistan.

Buried under the nature of things,
With bombs exploding from left and right;
Like a message from Herat in Afghanistan.
The War Game,
All in a time frame to be buried;
Keep rolling it,
Keep changing it,
Keep trading it,
Keep building it,
Keep covering it,
Keep painting it,
Keep writing it,
Keep blocking it,
Keep cookin it,
Keep posting it,
Keep accepting it,
Keep driving it,
Keep bombing it,
Keep squeezing it,
Like the war game in Afghanistan.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Black Train Song (live)

(Recorded live at the spectrum, Philadelphia 1-5-1970)
People get ready there's a train coming
You don't need a ticket
Clime on board
woooooooooo !!!
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Train arrive
Sixteen cortege long
Will there be no train
Took my baby, it's gone
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Train, train
Comin' round the bend
Yeah, there will be no evil train
Took my one and only friend
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Train, train
Comin' down the line
Well there will be no rock train
Took me on and a friend of mine
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Train, train
Comin' down the track
Yeah it took my baby
And it never bring her back
Alright
Away, away, away of India
Away of India
Away, away, away, away of India
Away of India
That's right
Away, away, away of India
Away, away, away of India
That's right, that's right
Away, away, away of India
That's right
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the joit train on my mind
Take a walk with me everything will work out fine
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Well, i woke up this morning got the eight miles on my mind
Tale a walk with me everything, everything will work out fine
Well i woke up this morning got the crossroad on my mind

[...] Read more

song performed by Doors
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Passage To India

SINGING my days,
Singing the great achievements of the present,
Singing the strong, light works of engineers,
Our modern wonders, (the antique ponderous Seven outvied,)
In the Old World, the east, the Suez canal,
The New by its mighty railroad spann'd,
The seas inlaid with eloquent, gentle wires,
I sound, to commence, the cry, with thee, O soul,
The Past! the Past! the Past!

The Past! the dark, unfathom'd retrospect! 10
The teeming gulf! the sleepers and the shadows!
The past! the infinite greatness of the past!
For what is the present, after all, but a growth out of the past?
(As a projectile, form'd, impell'd, passing a certain line, still
keeps on,
So the present, utterly form'd, impell'd by the past.)

Passage, O soul, to India!
Eclaircise the myths Asiatic--the primitive fables.

Not you alone, proud truths of the world!
Nor you alone, ye facts of modern science!
But myths and fables of eld--Asia's, Africa's fables! 20
The far-darting beams of the spirit!--the unloos'd dreams!
The deep diving bibles and legends;
The daring plots of the poets--the elder religions;
--O you temples fairer than lilies, pour'd over by the rising sun!
O you fables, spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known,
mounting to heaven!
You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish'd
with gold!
Towers of fables immortal, fashion'd from mortal dreams!
You too I welcome, and fully, the same as the rest;
You too with joy I sing.

Passage to India! 30
Lo, soul! seest thou not God's purpose from the first?
The earth to be spann'd, connected by net-work,
The people to become brothers and sisters,
The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage,
The oceans to be cross'd, the distant brought near,
The lands to be welded together.

(A worship new, I sing;
You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours!
You engineers! you architects, machinists, your!
You, not for trade or transportation only, 40

[...] Read more

poem by Walt Whitman
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An Ode To A Saint Of Peace

An Ode to a Saint of Non-Violence – Mahatma Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi

He came from a non-descript Indian place
A village which would not have a place
In Her Majesty’s palace’ grace
What could this man for India raise?

When the Indian nation reeled
Under a foreign yoke
This frail man with iron will
Preached a master stroke

He visualized violence was no funnel
To get to the end of the tunnel
That the spring of freedom would gurgle
For the Indian freedom struggle

It is not arms and blood
Or revenge, violence or death
That will get India freedom
From the British kingdom

They can take away our right
They can make their sticks bite
They can take us to gaol
But they cannot take away our soul!

Protests with no violence
Will shake their conscience
It is the only way
For the British to loose its sway

Despite British scorn
And ire of critics
He made every Indian “re-born”
And friends of skeptics

Respect for all and love for mankind
He preached & practiced
He made every Indian aware
And the British beware

When the British enacted suppressive laws
This soul bonded us with his non-violent straw
His simplicity and truthfulness held all in awe
He gave us belief, pride and strength not to thaw

In 1930 Gandhi gave a key freedom call
Civil disobedience was the mantra for all
Salt Tax was the symbol of oppression

[...] Read more

poem by Arvind Chandak
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India- The paradise on Earth

India is the paradise on earth
I admire you the beauty of nature,
As you have created such beautiful creatures
The beautiful sight, the aromatic flowers,
The magnificent animals, and the colourful birds,
To give us courage, will and guts.
Our culture is the most popular one in the world
Every creature in this world appreciate India's culture.
Many foreigners come to India to marry, celebrate festivals
In the small villages, cities and towns.
They never forget it till they wear life's crown
Because India is the paradise on Earth.

Many Gods and Goddesses have incarnated in every eras in India
To rescue the world from destruction
He has fought and taken action
To destroy the destroyer
And to end the danger.
The people of India has made temples in the memory of unforgotable ancestors.
When the visitors visit those famous shrines,
They wash out all their crimes
Because India is the paradise on Earth.

poem by Akash Agrawal
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The USA Should Invade The USA

Paul Myers tweet

'The USA should
invade the USA
and win the
hearts and minds
of the population
by building
roads, bridges
and putting
locals to work.'

Winning hearts and minds
was favoured military slogan
in US war worn Vietnam
strangely gift airmailed bombs
napalm agent orange campaign
did not win local hearts minds
surviving flesh burnt bodies
did not appreciate high tech death
rained down upon them from skies.

Alas rebuilding roads bridges
televised blown apart in missions
spectacular invasion Iraq was
never high on western oil agenda
oops silly Tony Blair spilt beans
'Reconstruction left Iraq no
electricity no clean water why? '
'NATO the military intentionally
targeted Iraq's water system.'

'Why was providing
essential water electricity
to Iraqi's not important?
To quote Blair
'they might have blown
up oil production'.
Lawyer Blair
inhumane ad hoc solutions
'I think' were unprofessional.'

'Everybody complains about
bad water in Baghdad except
Mubarak's friend Tony Blair.
Few are willing to risk life drinking
water from contaminated tap in Tony Blair's
'we have reconstruction about right'.
Cholera diarrhea but what helps prevent
dysentery infection, not an evil Tony Blair;

[...] Read more

poem by Terence George Craddock
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India’s Freedom After Freedom

The people’s struggle against corruption
The non-violent war against corruption
The revolution making all money, white
The struggle by the people, for the people
The new awakening of a modern India.

The giant step to cleanse mal-functioning systems
The call to make India truly progressive
The need to make workable laws
The need to make India self-sustaining
The bid to free India ofF its intriguing problems

Let money not be thine master
Let things become more transparent
Let lucre not allure the citizens
Let sense of decorum and duty prevail
Let patriotism fill all Indian hearts.

Let discrimination of all sorts vanish
Let injustice and inequality be removed
Let taxes be levied in feasible manner
Let persons be accountable, responsible
Let black-money and money-laundering be wiped out.

Let price-rise be controlled firmly
Let tax-money fully benefit the country-men
Let harmony and brotherhood prevail
Let sanctity of life become universal
Let atrocities of all sorts be abolished.

Let inhumane practices be prohibited
Let common man not suffer humiliation
Let authorities not misuse power
Let basic amenities be provided to all
Let clout and recommendation disappear

Let labour be decently remunerated
Let citizens reap the fruits of their toil
Let all Indians breathe the air of freedom
Let love and oneness prevail amongst Indians
Let Indians live with honour and happiness.

Let all Indian states be truly integrated
Let divisive forces be stifled by solidarity
Let all Indians live in unity and security
Let India prosper in all ways, always
Let a good democracy rule India here-after.

Dedicated with reverence to a true Gandhian disciple
The Hero of the Indian nation, Anna Hazare

[...] Read more

poem by John Celes
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The Tracks That Lie By India

Now this is not a dismal song, like some I’ve sung of late,
When I’ve been brooding all day long about my muddled fate;
For though I’ve had a rocky time I’ll never quite forget,
And though I never was so deep in trouble and in debt,
And though I never was so poor nor in a fix so tight—
The tracks that run by India are shining in my sight.
The roads that run by India, and all the ports of call—
I’m going back to London first to raise the wherewithal.
I’ll call at Suez and Port Said as I am going past
(I was too worried to take notes when I was that way last),
At Naples and at Genoa, and, if I get the chance,
Who knows but I might run across the pleasant land of France.

The track that runs by India goes up the hot Red Sea—
The other side of Africa is far too dull for me.
(I fear that I have missed a chance I’ll never get again
To see the land of chivalry and bide awhile in Spain.)
I’ll graft a year in London, and if fortune smiles on me
I’ll take the track to India by France and Italy.

’Tis sweet to court some foreign girl with eyes of lustrous glow,
Who does not know my language and whose language I don’t know;
To loll on gently-rolling decks beneath the softening skies,
While she sits knitting opposite, and make love with our eyes—
The glance that says far more than words, the old half-mystic smile—
The track that runs by India will wait for me awhile.

The tracks that run by India to China and Japan,
The tracks where all the rovers go—the tracks that call a Man!
I’m wearied of the formal lands of parson and of priest,
Of dollars and of fashions, and I’m drifting towards the East;
I’m tired of cant and cackle, and of sordid jobbery—
The mystery of the East hath cast its glamour over me.

poem by Henry Lawson
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I Love My India

La la……la la… lalallala……..
Lala……lala……lallalalaa…

I love my Papa,
I love my Mama,
But most of all,
I love My India

I love my Papa,
I love my Mama,
But most of all,
I love My India

I love my teachers,
I love my friends,
But most of all,
I love my brother.

I love my Papa,
I love my Mama,
But most of all,
I love My India

I love my books
I love my plays
But most of all,
I love my cycle

I love my Papa,
I love my Mama,
But most of all,
I love My India

I love my country
I love my brothers
I love my sisters
But most of all,
I love my family

I love my Papa,
I love my Mama,
But most of all,
I love My India
I love my India aaaa
Aaaa ho ho ho

Thank you

poem by I.p. Gopikrishnan Pisharody
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India

(to Sumit Chakrabarty)
India is not just India, even from before I was born,
India has been my history.
My history, carved into two by daggers of animosity and hatred, running breathlessly towards uncertain possibilities,
with the terrible crack at the core,
History bloodstained, history turned death.
It is this India that has given me language,
Has enriched me with culture
And powerful dreams.
This India can, if it so desires, snatch
My history away from my life,
My homeland from my dream.
But why should I let it drain me dry only because it so desires?
Hasn't India brought forth those noble souls,
Who place their hands today on my tired shoulders,
On the abandoned shoulders of this helpless, orphaned soul?
These hands, longer than the land, stretched beyond space and time,
Gives me warmly cherished security against all worldly cruelties.
Madanjeet Singh, Mahasweta Devi, Muchukund Dube—they are my homeland today,
Their hearts my true country.

[This poem was written while Taslima was forced to live in confinement in an undisclosed location in Delhi from 22 November 2007 to 19 March 2008. Samik Bandapadahya translated this poem from her book PRISONERS POEMS]

poem by Taslima Nasrin
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