In bygone days, people who sang, from commerce kept it hidden—
Now appliances sing, appliances laud, sold appliances stay hidden!
I had a friend who lived and died, killed by wisdom’s sorrows—
News declared him the killer; though circumstances stay hidden!
There in life is a principle—an immortal brink never to cross:
Unless its music has mellowed our eyes, let glances stay hidden!
Faces we knew to plastic turned, to sensations of plastic made:
In times bewildered by plastic senses, clairvoyances stay hidden.
Here was a jungle, a forest fine, an endless fountain, a village scene:
Miyaan algorithm froze it to a meme, only our lances stay hidden!
Do not worry, O silly Qasim, the sillier qazi shall never know—
Preys of your wit were handsomely paid; your finances stay hidden!
Arup K. Chatterjee 