Albert Ashok

Autumnal Morning and Inheritance of poverty

This autumn morning is worst of all
like an autumn morning
the ragpickers, a sack on their back
the labourer infront of a closed mill
or
some street urchins unaware of crude bombs
looking for foodgrains in the heap of city garbage
near Shraddhananda Park
The iron hands of Municipal-corporation crane
dumping all waste
and its a regular flowing
the emitting foul smell overpowers the breathing wind

speechless

The third world and the world the communists staged revolution,
reigned and
painted a dream under the thatched roof of million and billion wall
of tramps, vagabonds, farmers and labourers
they are no more in this world panorama
but before they washed out
they made it sure that
working class shall never rise again
they taught them slogans:
Unity is strength
working class can rule
losers have nothing to lose .

Wow! What a bonus to capitalism!

Southerly wind never blows here
I have a headache as my head is full of trash
whatever I paint I can’t put a sun in the sky
instead
I see people as an image of autumn
funny enough to be ridiculed
making merry revolving an occasion and immersion

then
all get quiet in an another day

with blank eyes set to repay the misused loan
And Mahamaya will be coming every year
With inheritance of poverty

This morning is bitter and
it will remain bitter for another 34 years
in my Bengal
till then I shall not live.

Albert Ashok is a Painter, an Author and a Graphic Designer 10629869_10153055724050805_3004582546989528538_n.