Alcohawla Poem by Seiji Lushai

May I have your attention!
Here comes The Hero, Alcohawla
Who carries his Hawla-bible everywhere
And preaches his gospel with his hawla-spirit
A salvation for all the infidels and drunkards
His hawla-spirit is of the finest quality
For Mizoram but blended somewhere else.

Forget its source of origin
Its the dire need of our destitute state
Which is deprived of everything except singers, photographers and models
(Of the finest but not exportable quality)
A perfect policy to drive away the black money
In this side of the spoon-fed hills by the central
Where ration cards are found in every house
Where intangible slums comprise one-third of our only city
And where corruption is charmingly called ‘bonus'.

Oh! Damn you - the Church
Don't be such a hypocrite!
The sweeper is supposed to sweep
And keep the floor pristine
Have you forgotten that our land received the Gospel
With the help of a philanthropist
Who also sold this hawla-spirit
So, kindly keep your mouth shut
And look at our land... evolving.

Despite the bad roads and dearth of food supply
Alcohawla is flying in his hawlacopter
Resting his hands on his paunchy belly
Why should he see the bad roads and collapsing bridges?
When the mighty Hawla-indoor and Hawla-high school
Stand tall and firm like a lighthouse
That guides every wandering bark
The backlashes by the opposition doesn't affect him, neither the bad roads.

For he is flying!
To see his VIP's who are starving and agitating
While bearing his sanguine smile, he will pour his smarmy speech
And makes their stomachs and hearts Hawl again.