Bobodom

Now is a time bandhs don’t matter. Hell they’ve never mattered.


Why do they shout
Why are they hurling stones
How they have not a moment’s rest
Lo how well they impose this calm

I’ve been always enamoured of the bandh. But so has the rest of mankind in some way or the other. I praise it here because of our observance in surfeit of this social unifier, the universal invitation to leisure. Although it has been generally recognized that the strike is a harmful instrument of political maneuvering, in no way does the resorting to it at the drop of a hat suggest stupidity of the citizenry. After all with great discretion comes the power to let go. And the difference to the trees and the birds; the air is different, it is a phenomenon I’m sure has as much a basis in science as in romance. But yes even if the crow takes a shit on you (you missed the fine print even though you were looking at the trees) it is worth it.



What do you want
The details
Or my delight in it
Because as you might
be knowing
I’m in love