Poems by Dr Jernail S Aanand

Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού


Past becomes past only when it becomes irrelevant in the present. And if you wish to drag the past into our present, it will only impair our future.

But we are diehard fans of our tradition and culture, and don’t wish anything to turn yore.  In a way, our looking back and back cuts on the space for the present and leaves none for the future.

Culture is something which has been already cooked, in the oil of some values which have now turned over. I sometimes wonder how tenets which were formed a thousand years ago, can  be held valid in this highly advanced age of science and technology.

Religions, which are ultra-resistant to change, and don’t believe in transformation, have seen the emergence of ‘babas’ or ‘demi-gods’ who give the people a comparative freedom to move and think, which again is a trap.

The countries which are looking backward to their old culture, old values, old thinking, old tenets, – whether under the spell of culture, or religion, – are trying to extend the past over into the future.

If we do not let the past lie in its grave, and if we drag it again and again, and make it stand in front of us, can we take rational decisions for our present situation?

Things which force us to look back, will they ever allow us to peep into the future and take decisions which are necessary for the coming generations?

There is no harm if we seek guidance from our past, from our traditions and our culture, but putting the past ahead of us can be counterproductive. We can afford to allow ten percent space to tradition and culture, but allowing ninety percent to the past can prove suicidal for a modern society which needs to negotiate future.

Look for the complete text which will be available soon.

DARKNET by Jernail S Aanand

I see cleaners taking time
To clean the glass windows,
The body and even tyres of the buses.

And I am reminded of my daily wash
Good soap clean water
Rubbing hard here and there

It is way of the world
To keep bodies in good trim
And look impressive

After all it is not the engine
But the body looking at which
Customers can be tempted

In this visible world,
Only bodies are visible
So, why bother about the invisible things

And while I am spending all effort
At how I look,
I never looked into see how I am.

I never washed my mind of impurities
Never told myself,
I must get rid of the dirt

I parked myself in a service station,
For a thorough service
But it branded  me a sinner

And pushed more dirt in my mouth
And foul in my heart
Further sullying my soul

The swine never complain of the
Dirty drains,
Rather  revel in scattering foulages.

Now nobody spots me
There is no fear in this darknet.
Where bright souls are banned