Goa: A poem 

I hear the lyric of the oceans 

Yet, it’s only the waves gushing in my ears 

And we’ve had a shared history for hundreds of years 

We’ve now become a busy metropolis 

where we can get what we want 

And the tourists keep coming 

fascinated by our hybrid culture and the beaches 

We live in large mansions and have cars 

And we frequent bars 

There is no stench of the burning at the stake, 

the torture and the punishment by mutilation 

We have learnt to be busy…and forget 

the poetry of the land 

that has become the victim of corrupt hands 

From captivity to corruption 

We’ve only changed hands 

And it’s easy to live and forget, when the going’s not tough 

And toast the old-timers who passed 

who glorified the good old days…of captivity