The Pact

Father signed the pact.

To dispatch, loads of coal.
The uncouth facts smiles
Like an inverted rainbow
With a sinister contract!
The concerns over repercussions, danced,
Like filthy waves of Ganga!
What would happen to the family?
Home might be confiscated,
He might have to become a slave.
The post-pact life, how unroll?
Unfamiliar with the future,
The father, burnt the hearth,
With the cooking pot empty!
He was relieved, thinking that
To impede his independence,
His wife had taken “I-pills”.
When asked, he said-
“I am happy, with my only son who-
Was killed in a bigotry place.
And I do not care for the future of
Me, my middle aged wife,
And my ‘half naked’,
Alzheimer’s patient, Grand Father.