(Xenophobic) Kansara Profile picture
Feb 20, 2022 12 tweets 2 min read Read on X
As shadows of the night grew long,
We gathered round the radio new;
Our breaths held for the latest song,
And then your soulful notes came through! /1 #Latājī
The voice, O! lovely lilting voice!
We swayed our heads and closed our eyes;
The dulcet tones, what simple joys,
In that moment we touched the skies. /2
In some place else, a different time,
A time of youth, table for two;
The empty chair, a wistful rhyme,
And cold became the cup of brew. /3
"Sorry," she said, "O sorry, dear!"
A song then played like magic fair;
Your mellow voice for hearts to hear,
A poetic answer to my prayer! /4
The longing turned to longer sighs,
As days and nights the cassette rolled;
The dreams were mine in wistful eyes,
The voice was yours, a friend of old. /5
And then the day of life arrived,
Of song and dance and theft of shoes;
At times we laughed, at times we cried,
Your songs then turned from mirth to blues. /6
In ups and downs that life had thrown,
The tiffs amidst the daily chores;
And moments that we made our own,
Your voice remained a constant force. /7
A little one with lovely eyes,
Our life revolved around her deep;
Until we hummed your lullabies,
She stubbornly refused to sleep. /8
In festive nights and days we prayed,
And wafted high your voice refined;
A bhajan, kīrtan, ārtī, made
A prasād, so to speak, divine. /9
Up high in mountains snowy cold,
The bravery of our soldiers shone;
Your voice brought us those tales untold,
We prayed for daring souls unknown! /A
From gramophones to streaming apps,
Your voice remains the soul of time;
Years and decades will elapse,
Yet will remain, the voice sublime. /B
As shadows of the night grow long,
We gather round with headphones new;
Our breaths held for that charming song,
And then your soulful notes come through! /C//

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More from @kansaratva

Apr 16
"Take it," said the officer to Sam Pitroda with a wink, "and go."

So Sam, with a smirk enclosed within his black-dyed French beard, took the EVM home.

He unwrapped it, unboxed it, and connected it to the power supply.

"How does it feel to disrobe a machine?" said a voice.
Sam was stunned and jerked away from the EVM.

Did he really hear the machine speak, or was it his own fertile imagination?

Confused, he moved towards the EVM and then gingerly pressed a button.

The EVM moaned, as if aroused, and teased him, "How gently you press my buttons."
There was no question about it now in Sam's mind. The EVM was talking to him.

He took a deep breath, looked up at the portrait of Nehru hanging on the wall to gather some courage.

"Er...what's your name?" he asked as his mind did whirligigs.

"E V Meena, Uncle," said E V Meena.
Read 15 tweets
Apr 9
It was early in the morning and there was a knock on the door.

Vikas was too tired to even think about who it could be. He opened the door.

Outside was a bearded man, his eyes lined with kohl and anger. Behind him were two hefty men carrying what appeared to be heavy sticks.
"Vikas?" asked the man. Vikas nodded and noticed the name on his green-and-green uniform. Abdul Malik.

"You have not given away sufficient wealth and assets, Vikas," questioned Abdul.

"I've already done what is needed," said Vikas feebly. "All my TDS and WDS are done.
WDS was a new scheme, Wealth Distributed at Source, which took away a specific portion of the salary towards, well, wealth distribution.

A new Ministry of Wealth Redistribution (MoWeR) was created by the new government to oversee the ruthless execution of its objectives.
Read 16 tweets
Jan 20
"What do you think you're doing?"

Eeny shouted at Moh as Meeny looked on confused.

"Just remove your Choos, Eeny," urged Moh, who had invited them.

"Where the hell are we?" yelled Eeny, sitting on a bench and looking around at the trees, the lushness of which was lost on her.
The trio, which had reduced from a quartet ever since Mynie had gone missing after she had married Parvez who called himself Paresh, was seated in what looked like an āṣhram canteen.

"We're in a good place," teased Moh. "Remove them."

"Those are not Choos," said Eeny. "Gucci."
Moh again urged both of them to remove their shoes. After they reluctantly did that, Moh took out a saffron pouch.

She offered a flower with some akśata to Eeny.

"Rice?" asked Eeny. "Why?"

Ignoring her, Moh gave the same to Meeny.

"You can keep this in your home mandir."
Read 15 tweets
Dec 16, 2023
I don't understand the fetish for restaurants to play background music all the time. A quiet dinner is almost impossible anywhere. Mostly, it is some soft instrumental played so loudly that you feel like gulping down the hot soup would actually be a relief.
Yesterday, I was in an Italian restaurant. The background music was RD Burman. I told the staff to reduce the volume as I couldn't hear the conversation of my neighbour who was negotiating a December deal. "It's already low, Sir," he said. "Try our new garlic bread with paneer."
Imagine listening to "bīti nā bitāī rainā" in an Italian restaurant where you order any of the overpriced and overrated dishes.

"Yes, one salty and cheesy spaghetti aglio olio with one instrumental of Rafi and a soft remix of Kishore on the sides."

The night refuses to end.
Read 4 tweets
Sep 18, 2023
"Guard Me, O Nandī, guard Me well!"
Said Pārvatī and stepped inside;
"Leave that to Me, I surely shall
Let no one in," Nandī replied. 1/
The Divine Bull stood like a rock,
Until the Lord Himself arrived;
In jest said Śiv, "Will You now block,
O Nandī, or shall step aside?" 2/
Nandī, confused, stuttered and stalled,
Torn between two commands so wide;
"What shall I do? Who shall I call?
How can I obey both the sides?" 3/
Read 27 tweets
May 15, 2023
Black Beard and White Beard were seated in thought.

The Jinn, as was his usual way, materialized silently and stood facing them. On seeing him, the two stood up, startled.

"You have replaced Chanakya and Savarkar with Ambedkar and the Buddha?" said the Jinn looking at the wall.
The two looked at each other. Unspoken words hovered like promises during elections.

"Where's Tina?" asked the Jinn.

A moment later a young girl, tired and weak, appeared in the room. She looked at Black Beard and White Beard.

"Is she blaming or begging you?" asked the Jinn.
"She is just tired," said Black Beard defensively. "A touch of flu."

White Beard looked at the Jinn, his saffron robes, his red tilak, his piercing eyes. Had he grown more muscular since the last time?

The Jinn stared back at White Beard. Unspoken questions smote like an arrow.
Read 15 tweets

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