Nationalism, with many a schism
You can be crazy, weird and plain irrational
But you simply cannot be anti-national
The nation won’t tolerate this tolerance
You’ll go from your tuppence to comeuppance
If you raise an improper slogan
Be prepared to face Quick-gun Murugan
He’ll thrash you till you say “Ouch, Amma”
You’ll sound like that bullet in Ummagumma!
Now, who exactly decides on your chant?
When do they say your rage is not a rant?
Who is the witness and who is the judge?
This, dear reader, is where they go and fudge
There will be front liners and bystanders
One’s goose will be another’s gander
But decisions will not be left to the courts
Why bother them when you have goons and cohorts?
There are 50 shades of the nationalist grey
Though tricolour is what they say is at play
Your Nationalism is not my Nationalism
We stand united, but with our very strange schisms
The due process of law, as it is widely understood
ceases to matter for some as it should
They take the law into their self-righteous hands
They slap and punch like they had magic wands!
This is patriotism, worn on unseemly sleeves
Built on assumptions, half-truths and longstanding peeves
Justified by slogans and circular logic
They produce outcomes that seem truly tragic
Outrage is the new religion, and emotion the new reason
And anyone with sober views may be charged with high treason
This is no modern republic, but an ostrich’s desert sand
Democracy is the new Alice, and India the Wonderland!