MY INDEPENDENT COUNTRY(or is it?)

a whiskey bottle in my right
a malboro cigarette in my left
wandering how it feels to be alive
feeling the chain of constraint
letting my marginalised voice to be heard
screaming my heart out almost bursting my lungs
trying to smile like Leo's Monalisa
or trying to scream like Edvard's Scream
even tried to make myself a Picasso's cube
but my identity, branded, and up for sale
in a nearby shopping mall in this capitalistic hell
my forehead bore the brand Indian

John Lennon told us to "Imagine" a world with no possession
Bob Dylan, told the world about "the times they are a-changing"
Bob Marley told us to "stand up for your right"
since singers are the common man's poets
I listened to them,
reconstructing and deconstructing myself
and my capitalistic hell
my base and suprestructure,
swinging to and fro
conquered half the world like Genghis Khan
left those kingdoms like The Buddha
still my marginalised voice not yet heard

I am an Indian, a freedom fighter,
the man who shot Gandhi,a Jihadi...and god knows what
drinking my last peg of whiskey
smoking my last puff of cigarette
still trying to reconstruct and deconstruct myself
and my capitalistic hell
oh!! Nike i just did it...