Thank you Ma’am
The syndicates breathe a sigh of relief,
Drumrolls all around, air turned green,
Rain came over to cry on our hopes,
Black money funded ornaments found a new sheen.
“We are not being given equal rights,”
the people in Northern Bengal had complained.
With rubble of the broken bridge,
hundreds of fingers were grained.
“If Tata had setup their factory here,”
An aspiring entrepreneur wondered.
Slogans of “Hokkolorob” on streets,
Against the evils of the system, the students had thundered.
A girl had demanded justice in vain,
“Sajano Ghotna”, such was the tag.
The human debts had piled above the financial lows,
As the ministers in their paras continued to rag.
A tainted state made to look serene,
until the veil was removed to reveal the Sharada Scam.
Look at our map, it has been darted time and again.
For giving us a gleeful Waste Bengal, thank you ma’am.
If this catches your eye, I’ll be put behind bars,
I’ll be labelled either a Maoist or BJP activist.
But I’m more worried than fearless,
Because an already choked Bengal may have to slit its wrist.
Is our mind without fear or can the head be held high?
Bengal is far from awake, do not make it blind.
We deserve a vision, we deserve to be led forward.
Undo. Unravel. Unwind.