New World Terrorists Poem by Hardik Vaidya

New world terrorists.

Educated, perhaps a doctorate or two.
Enough post doctorate dogmas.
Decided on the conviction to commit,
Crimes of infamy on generation next
The one yet to mature
The ones yet to be born
Abuse of power enshrined in past culture,
Burps out as undigested gas gurgling out
Through intestines of dead thought
Empowering the teachers to play
Poker on a Friday night
Turning the temple into a casino
Jack pot, young heads roll.

We shall have changed curricula
Courses disconnected, jointed, stitched up
Like corpses examined post mortem
While thousands young and free
Wait patiently in a long serpentine que
Outside the educational morgues
Waiting for their turn to be cut and doused
The living dying for whiff of preservative fluids
Their futures screaming to be pickled in jars
So that ten years from now,
The double doctorates
Could walk in and relish their hunts of the nights gone by.

There is nothing new between the new and the old
Worlds, words and wars of the worldly.
Indian thought is ever new
Shining brighter than lands afar
It still bases its algorithm on the primordial hymn
The mother of all chants
The original madrasaa which taught
A Brahmins son shall be a Brahmin
Therefore a teacher is infallible.