God Commits

(A Collection of Satiric/Humorous Poems)

By: Assan Vaswani "Majboor"

Assan Vaswani
THX-97, Adipur (Kutch-Gujarat)
PIN 370205, INDIA. Tel. : (02836) 260131

Cover Page Design : Mukesh Tilokani

Published on Internet
a complete Sindhi web magazine

Year of Publication (December) 2006

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INTRODUCTORY remarks on god commits suicide

God Commits Suicide is a brave collection of poetry by Assan Vaswani. Do not be misled by the title: his commitment to and desire for a spiritual power is evident, as well as his genuine admiration for mankind. One theme that runs through this collection is the notion that modern times have brought modern disasters, and humanity has committed a magnitude of merciless acts in the name of god. Vaswani brings this to the readers' attention in an audacious manner: He wants to shake things up- encourage us to think He writes with great vigor and self-knowledge that it is not a crime against god to question him, to consider the end of him. The crime is, rather, what humankind does to one another - most frequently in the name of god.

Vaswani's particular signature is exemplified in his tender moments of questioning, as in the poem "Illegitimate Child," wherein he askes," ...Is man an angel?" Gentle queries such as this are present througout his book. His desire to narrow the gap between what is known and what is believed separate him from other voices who cry for signs of a higher power, who bleed in the name of the name of the word "God," who follow a malevolent translation of a holy book. It is this poet's belief that humankind is an earthly manifestation of god; that the terrible mistakes of religious and political leaders are tragic landmines set out by a god who is worshipped by the perpetrators as well as the victims. This is an irony Vaswani clearly understands and suggests we pay close attention to. The question is, should God have known better than to have entrusted us with the power of self-determination, freedom to strive, freedom to serve. Has humankind maligned the spirit in which GOd has set up this world? Yes, yes and yes. Vaswani writes,: ..God has been created/to give mental prop to humans/so that they can forget the truth/about their own helplessness/and nobodiness..." The notion of "nobodiness," is startling, rich, and original. The direct and unapologetic attitude is not soapbox chatter but an unabashed expression of dismay at how things have turned out.

Assan Vaswani is a purposeful writer, realistic and accessible. He says what so many of us dare to whisper in a dark hour of despair. What a refreshing collection of poems written by a man who faces his doubts but who nevertheless communicates with authority, tenderness and a lack of self-importance. "God Commits Suicide" is a quest to discover by inquiry, as a child would, when the world seems too complex, too uncertain, too baffling. Vaswani's voice and mood are open, unfaird.

Carine Topal, Torrance, California

March 20, 2006



allow me
to dismiss from service
an old and indolent God
who neither performs his duties right
nor’s ready to retire.
allow me to conceal from public view
all my misdeeds
and put on a mask of
the ignorant God
can’t distinguish
between the original and the fake.
Isn’t it a stupendous folly
on the part of God
to bring a human to life
and subsequently
to commit suicide ?


Oh God !

I don’t want to pray

or worship


I don’t need your indulgence

nor compassion,

neither forgiveness

nor any favour.

If I’ve done any misdeed

I merit apt punishment

and I must get it

in full measure.

I’ll never approach you

for reducing the punishment

or for reprieve.

I’ll not resort to flattery

nor supplication

on that account.

I am ready to undergo punishment

without any protest.

Let your punishment

even if patently harsh,

be the strong evidence

of your impartial governance.

Please don’t mind

when I say

that I don’t need a temple

a mosque, a church

a synagogue, a gurdwara

or any other place of worship,

as all these are acclaimed

as your holy abodes

where people come to pray

and cringe for forgiveness.

I for one

do not need it.

I don’t need your indulgence

nor compassion

neither forgiveness

nor any favour.

All I need is

your impartial judgment

and strong governance.


From times immemorial

the sinners have been arriving here

from far - off places

to bathe at the bank

of this holy river.

After washing themselves clean

of their numerous sins

and becoming absolutely sinless,

they have again accumulated

some more sins

and have once more, by bathing

earned blessing

from the benevolent river.

It seems

the tradition of sinning

and subsequent absolution

on receiving blessings

has been here for a very long time,

else why should sinners

come here so often

for a holy dip ?

My fear is

that the waters of this holy river

once sparklingly pure -

have been so much mudied

by the dirt of sins

that I shouldn’t dare

take bath there anymore

else the dumped sins of worshippers

may rise to the surface

and overwhelm my conscience completely.


Many centuries back

a great man

named Gautam Buddha

was born.

He was a fountain of compassion

He propounded a new philosophy

based on non-violence, piety and pity.

Under its influence

the people began shunning hatred

strife and ill-will,

there was an atmosphere

of love and fellow-feeling.

But this didn’t continue long,

the show was short - lived.

Buddha died

and along with his dead body

his principles too were cremated

by his numberless enthusiastic disciples.

There have remained of course

his pagodas, statues

and elaborate worshipping

with incense and aplomb.

After a very long period

A poor man Christ was born.

He was an apostle of peace and kindness

which he preached

where ever he went.

He wanted humans

to be humane in the real sense.

But he was not allowed to reform the world.

His opponents stopped him short,

he was arrested and imprisoned

and ultimately crucified.

After his death,

his numberless enthusiastic disciples

buried him, along with his principles.

There have remained ofcourse

his churches, statues

and elaborate worshipping

with incense and aplomb.

And not long ago

A great man Gandhi was born

in India

He was an apostle of truth and Ahimsa.

He brought in revolution

in the minds of people,

there was an upsurge of

new sensibility.

But this didn’t continue for long.

He was shot dead

in the broad day-light.

And his numberless enthusiastic disciples

while mourning his death

cremated his body and principles together.

There have remained of course

his statues, his books

and elaborate worshipping

with incense and aplomb.

5. God Commits Suicide

That man is very old

he has completed one hundred years,

his physical strength is low

but his eyes have a strange shine

and rather unusually

his brain is unimpaired.

Through out his life

he has been seeking an answer

to his question

from saints, sages, sanyasies

priests, pirs, pontiffs and philosophers

but every where

the answer hasn’t been a straight one.

It has been circuitous

and full of cliches and conditionalities.

As a result, there has been emergence of

many more questions, rather than answers.

The old man puts his question simply thus :

Human being doesn’t know why he is born in this world,

neither does he know why death is inevitable for him.

Then why such kind of ignorant creature

has been created after all ?

If it is a strategy

who, in that case, is the strategist ?

The old man is anxious to have interface with God

to get a reply from Him

a clear and an unambiguous reply

a direct and straight reply

without any ifs and buts.

Having come to know his query

God is frightened.

He doesn’t want to meet the old man,

much less argue with him.

The old man is alive and will remain so

until God ordains otherwise.

He has completed hundred years

Yet there are no signs of his imminent death.

But, on this side of the fence

the old man is also frightened.

His fear is based on the possibility

of God committing suicide

out of remorse, repentance and desperation.

And, in case that happens

what would be the fate of humans

including he himself

who have no knowledge of their beginnings

and are ignorant about the end aswell ?


For many centuries now

the ancient religions —-

Hinduism, Christianity, Islam

Taoism, Confucianism, Shanto

have been in existence

just for name.

I don’t know why ?

The names

Of Vedic Rishis, Christ, Mohamed

Zorastra, Buddha, Moses

are being formally uttered

I don’t know why ?

When human race

has made so many strides

towards inventing

numberless new concepts, new objects

and new institutions

the invention of a new religion

wouldn’t have been that difficult.

It seems

the human beings aren’t interested

in inventing the new religion

or, may be

they don’t find any need of it.

They find it expedient

to allow continuance of old faiths

as they provide some ossified ideals

which, every body knows

are but a facade

behind which

the criminals among them

continue their nefarious activities

and flourish.

Why should they bother about new religion

when the going is good otherwise ?


I created man after a long gestation

to make him the crown of creation,

so that he brings new light on the earth,

so that he brings beauty and fragrance there.

He was given the earth as dwelling place

where there’s everything in plenty.

Gold, silver and other precious metals

are in abundance.

The food and fruits are sufficient

to feed billions of people.

But the tragedy is :

some humans are overfed

some go hungry,

some children are plump and ruddy

some are emaciated and pale.

Further, they manufacture war-weapons

and are plotting to kill one another.

They fight on earth, in air and on sea

and laugh at the deaths of their foes.

They think it is their big success.

They have divided earth

among themselves

as if it were their personal property.

Or in the name of religion

they slay the young and the aged alike.

When I mull over the present plight of earth

I repent for having created the humans

who are good-looking and clever for sure

but are totally devoid of wisdom and compassion.



Human being is a clever animal.

He has adopted many strategies

for self-delusion.

He pretends to be ignorant

while he knows the reality very well.

He pretends as if he has no knowledge

while he has full knowledge of the happenings.

He is groping in the dark

like a sightless person.

He doesn’t know anything about God

nor did his forefathers know

yet he continues to chant God’s name

and say ever and anon

that God is the creator

God is very merciful

God is pure

God is omnipresent

God is omnipotent

God is destroyer of wicked people


In truth

God is the creation of human mind

and all the attributes of God

are also human inventions.

God has been created

to give mental prop to humans

so that they can forget the truth

about their own helplessness

and nobodiness.
Therefore they continue to repeat parrot-like

the name of God

and treat that inane repetition

as a great prayer

which is in effect a futile exercise.

Further, the human being is after all human,

he has committed many errors

and is likely to commit more errors hereafter.

It is said by wise men

that to realise the truth about our mistakes

is the beginning of wisdom.

Here, in the case of human being,

this realisation is totally absent.

On the contrary, the human being thinks

that God being compassionate,

all his earlier and present faults

have been condoned

and those of the future

would also be treated likewise.

Hence he isn’t worried about his mistakes

isn’t worried about his misdeeds.

For him, no oppression is unjust

no crime merits punishment

no devilish deed will attract penalty

since God is omnipresent

God is always there to forgive

God is always there to condone mistakes.

Om Shanti …….. Om Shanti …….. Om Shanti

Shanti …….. Shanti …….. Shanti.


* * *

(Let there be peace, let there be peace, let there be 
                                peace,   peace …… peace …… peace)


On witnessing

an unknown person’s dead body

being taken to cremation-ground

Gautam Buddha was set

into deep thinking.

His heart was filled with so much sorrow

that he renounced the worldly pleasures

and went into the woods

to find out an answer

as to why every person

ultimately dies.

Even the death of a stranger

disturbed his mind

and brought about revolution

in his life.

Later, he became a great person

a great thinker

a great guide

and a great philosopher.

On my side

I have witnessed many a dead body

being taken to cremation ground

and have joined the mourners’ processions

going there,

I have seen my own kith and kin

near and dearones

disappear before my very eyes

from this world,

yet I’ve never given a thought

to renouncing the world

nor have I any further plan

to retire to the woods

for meditation.

I have developed an odd habit of

considering a dream as reality

and a reality as dream.

My blind faith, based on myths, is that

man is immortal

he lives innumerable lives

death destroys his body only

his soul does’nt perish

there’ll he resurrection / restoration

etcetera - all no more than wishful thinking.

As a consequence

I have failed to become a great person

I have failed to become a great thinker

I have failed to become a great guide

and I have failed to become a great philosopher.


Devas and Devies of Heaven

are all angry with God.

What great attraction now remains

in this erstwhile sought - after Heaven ?

They argue:

‘Life is more comfortable

for earthly humans

than for us.

Our living conditions are

veritably abominable

spiceless and inglorious.’

Our houses are not airconditioned.

We haven’t got multichannel TVs

No continuous musicals

No mobiles

No blue films

No all-revealing sex sports.

There’s scarcity of fast foods

hamburgers, hotdogs, cookies

beers, whiskies, wines.

There’s no champagne

no English scotch

no Russian Vodka.

What we get is the same

‘Som Ras’ — which has

neither taste nor flavour.

For eating we continue to get

same ambrios of olden times.

We don’t get tandoori roties

basmati rice, shish kebab or surmai fish.

We can’t continue life

in this atmosphere of total boredom.

We request you humbly

Oh great God

that we be permitted

to emigrate from the Heaven

to Earth.

God (in spiritual meditation)

opened this eyes briefly

and gave a serious thought

to the problem in hand

and replied thus :

I’m in full agreement with you

as regards poor living conditions in Heaven.

I have already been mulling this issue

for quite some time now.

Let me tell you in confidence

that I have already

sent my request to the Earth authorities

for emigration

If you also submit such applications

I would , without any resentment or rancour

forward them to that place.

Hari Om Tat Sad

Hari Om Tat Sad



It seems

while searching for immortality

and working hard for its attainment

I shall soon happen to die.

You all folks will bury me

in the churchyard.

Some would at that time shed tears

some would place flowers

on my grave

so that my troubled soul

may rest in peace.

But after some period

I would feel

as if I had never been born.

The world would be full of laughter,

the spring as usual would arrive,

and there would be flowers blooming in the garden,

but there wouldn’t be any where

even trace of my existence.

None would have my new address

since my soul,

as if in exile,

would still be wandering

from one country to another

in search of that damned immortality.

12. Maskman

To Conceal my innate ugliness

and misdemeanour

I put on a mask,

but the devilish original was showing.

I went on putting mask after mask.

In the Process

I became a super masked man,

I could then breathe easy.

But of late

I have developed a craze

for unmasking myself

and this is not an easy task.

I feel tired and exhausted

as the masks are hard to remove -

they are so much stuck up

with my body and soul.

They have been fed

on the blood of my real self.

They're now loth to leave

the state of license and luxury.

I don't know

when this conflict

of real and counterfeit

is to end,

or may not end after all,

and become

an incurable ulcer

causing me incrutiating pain

through out my life.


In the train

a lone child is sitting

at the corner of the bench.

Sometimes he smiles

some times he becomes sombre

sometimes he’s on the verge of weeping.

I give him a lollipop

he is surprised

and his face lights up


But after a pause

the same innocence

and the same seriousness

return to him.

He told me

he had been travelling that way

from times immemorial,

alone and alone

like a homeless vagrant.

He didn’t know

who his parents were,

nobody had ever

craddled him in the arms

nobody had ever kissed his lips.

The feeling of being an alien

is now a permanent feature of his life.

This has become a lasting aspect

of his inexplicable existence.

I, as a poet, am totally puzzled.

I have failed to find

any satisfactory clue

to this unsolved puzzle.

Is this an instance of extreme ignorance

or a climax of

some spiritual enlightenment ?


congratulation to his mum and dad

for discarding their child

and freeing themselves

from the responsibilities

of bringing him up.


A person was caught

while committing sin

for the first time.

He was brought before God.

He expressed regret

and pleaded for forgiveness.

He promised he wouldn’t repeat

that action thereafter.

God was satisfied

and let him go.

But after a few days

the same person was caught

while committing the sin

the second time.

He again, before God,

pleaded for forgiveness

and promised not to repeat

the offence thereafter.

God was again impressed

by his seeming sincerity

and ordered his release.

The person was very pleased

on being shown mercy.

Again for the third and fourth time,

also the fifth and the sixth time

and so on

ad infinitum

the person got caught

in the act of sinning

but continued to plead

with merciful God

who forgave him every time.

At last

God lost patience

and asked the person

as to when would he stop

committing the sin.

The person

While folding his hands,

said namastey,

fell at the feet of God

and kissed them with reverence.

He added :

Oh the most revered Almighty !

better you fulfil your own obligation

and I fulfil mine.

It seems

I shall not refrain from sinning

and you shall not refuse me forgiveness.


When the great biologist

Charles Darwin

tried to prove

that man is not much different

from other animals of the earth,

the staunch believers

of various religions

lost their sleep complete.

They tried to remind us

about ‘Adam’ and ‘Eve’

or ‘Adam’ and ‘Bibi Hawa’

or ‘Manu’ and Shridha’.

They emphasised

that the kingdom of God

covers the entire globe

from east to west

and from north to south.

They also proclaimed

that man is

an exceptional creation of God,

man is never subject to mutations,

he is God’s beloved child

and an integral part of His.

But strange enough,

God has never openly

endorsed this view anytime.

At this end

man is anxious to declare himself

as son of God

and wants to appease Him.

Hence he has built many temples

churches and mosques

in His honour

where he has made arrangement

for prayers and His glorification.

Yet the creation problem

has remained unsolved as ever.

But now this tangle

should the resolved at the earliest

as this intimately concerns

the origin and race of the man,

this is the question of his prestige

and pride.

Is man an angel ?

Is he a devilish creature ?

Is he a legitimate son of God ?

Or is he an illegitimate creature

altogether ?


You and I

your ‘self’ and my ‘self’.

I am so much close to you bodily

that I’m able to hear very clearly

the soft sound of your breathing

your lips have stuck tightly to mine

like a thirsty human

who hasn’t drunk water for years

but later wants to empty

the entire river of its flowing water

in one single draught.

The mysterious hunger

has rolled our two bodies

into a single one.

What after all this signify ?

Is it sex ?

Is it passion ?

Is it love ?

or is it something else ?

As I see it

it’s an instinct

of getting united, and then getting separated.

It’s a dream

dreamt by an awakened person.

It’s a temporary writing on water

that’s rushing

towards the shores of non-existence.



We’re not one soul,

we’re very much separate from each other.

You and I

have met here

only by chance.

The differences between souls

are here immense

and incalculable,

the gulf between two souls

is never bridgeable

during this life time

or in future.

Not withstanding this

why is there so much joy

in our physical union

and why is there so much sorrow

when we are physically separated ?

This, to me, is yet a mystery

that is unresolved as of now.

Some times I begin to think

whether we humans

are simply puppets

dancing to the tune of

some clever hidden puppeteer

who is the sole Master

of this Cosmic Show.


The new inventions of science

have well-nigh

eliminated the distances

between one country and the other,

Earth space is mere

a formality shown in the geographical maps.

Humans live now so close

that any one stretching an arm

finds many a person

in his/her embrace.

We all humans are linked

and connected so much

that it is difficult to distinguish

between a compatriot and a foreigner.

Our life on this planet Earth

may be more comfortable

than there—in the so-called Heaven.

Even angels and their supreme boss, God

may feel tempted

to come down and stay with us for good.

But there’s a condition

that-humans reject their old mind-set,

that they reject old anachronistic

beliefs and traditions,

that they say good-bye to ossified brain,

and write a new chapter

in the history of human progress

and human fellowship.


There’s neither sorrow nor joy,

neither tears nor smiles,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

There’s no anxiety,

no throbbing of heart,

no expression of anger,

no complaint,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

There’s neither moon-lit night

nor total darkness,

neither star-lit night

nor starless sky,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

There’s no joy of spring

nor depression of autumn,

neither twittering birds

nor frightening silence,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

There’s no expectation of union

nor pangs of separation,

no daring love

nor fear of rivalry,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

There’s no intoxicating wine

nor cup-bearer’s indifference,

neither conscious pain

nor untutored glee,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !

Who says this world is a great creation ?

This life is worse than death.

There’s neither passion

nor any glory,

Oh Almighty

What a meaningless life !


I know it too well

that by now

I have passed through

many a stage of life.

At any time

a little more speed in the wind

can upset my old

and outdated boat

and sink it

into bottomless sea

from where

no information comes

either of the boat

or the boatswain.

Inspite of it

I’m not unduly alarmed

I’m none the less quite aware

and slightly restive.

In the mean time

on the surface of sea,

the sporty antics of sea-animals,

the fading glow of sunset

and the evening breeze

continue non-stop.

Are not all these beautiful scenes

and ear-pleasing melodies

enough to entertain

and enthral me ?


The humanity’s eyes are always fixed on the past

while the past is nothing but

writing on the yellowing pages of history,

something true, something false

something sweet, something bitter.

The past which was buried centuries back

can’t be resurrected now.

It is merely the reminder

of old friendships and old enmities.

The dilapidated walls of the monument

have long ago crumbled to dust,

they are, in sum, heaps of rubble.

This past is like a deserted and desolate place,

nothing valuable will come out

from digging deep into these ruins.

The actors of the past

are all in deep slumber, historically.

They would never get up from the sleep

hard though we may try for this to happen.

Then, why should we lose our sleep over the issue ?

Those ancient personages lived their lives as individuals,

performed their deeds according to their own lights

and then said good-bye to the world.

Is the past worthwhile

if that makes us blind to

our present conditions,

if it makes us insensitive,

prevents us from apprehending and


the difference between it and the present ?

Instead of clearing our vision

creates hazy atmosphere

or like opium, produces intoxication of the brain

resulting in total neglect of hard reality.

We continue to look back

and remain sometimes happy, other times unhappy.

We busy ourselves

in keeping the accounts of the past

and at first opportunity,

in the name of religion,

race, caste or colour,

kill like mad

those innocent people

who have no relation whatsoever

with the historical misdeeds.

We burn to ashes

the houses of friends and neighbours,

murder in cold blood

children, old men, young men and women,

or we render them orphans,

widowed and unsheltered.

We destroy thereby

the properties of crores of rupees

resulting in the undoing of

all previous economic progress of decades.



Consequent to the partition of India,

the migration of Hindu Sindhis from Sindh

was an event historic and mind-boggling,

with community running for cover

in every nook and corner of India.

It ended the era of ease and comfort

and threw a serious challenge

for survival and new life.

It was a great experience of adjustment,

new people with new lingos

new predilections and new customs.

For community

there were numerous instances

of stumbling, falling, and getting up,

but none shed tears,

none begged for alms.

Keeping in mind the demand of times

the community invigorated itself,

their self-confidence soared to great heights

their strength and determination became phenomenal,

they decided to stand on their own legs,

they valued self-respect even in hard times.

It appeared as if

the new evolved soul of the community

had woken from long slumber.


One critic said :

This uprooted community

is the most unlucky on earth.

I said:

I am envious of this community.

The gold becomes ‘Kundan’ after passing through fire.

The humans become great

after facing calamities

and overcoming crisis.


One dear friend

came to remind me of my birthday.

I was surprised,

as if I had woken from the sleep.

What, the year has ended so soon ?

After attaining sixty years of age

the person seems to find

years passing very fast.

As if only yesterday

my friends had come

with their presents

to felicitate me on my retirement.

They were very happy

that I had been a free man.

Having completed the life-journey—-

boring and luckless—-

I had now reached the junction-point

from where I’ll be able to travel

further straight to Heaven / Hell.

Those God-fearing friends

are my well-wishers.

They are anxious to send me away

to Heaven at the earliest.

They don’t know

that I might receive an order

to go to Hell instead,

as I am not faultless

nor sinless.

I am no saint or all-virtue.

Hence I don’t find any merit

in reaching there quickly

when my future is uncertain.

Those friends and relations of mine

don’t know

that I haven’t any interest

in entering Hell or Heaven.

I don’t want to meet God/Ishwar/Allah.

Let them remain there in their respective position.

This world, after all

is not that bad.

If there’s badness, there’s goodness too.

If there’s cowardice, there’s bravery too.

If there’s enmity, there’s friendship too.

If there’s sorrow, there’s happiness too.

If there’s slavery, there’s freedom too.

If there’s ugliness, there’s beauty too.

If there’s hatred, there’s love too.

If there’s discord, there’s togetherness too.


On the birth of a baby

the high expectations of parents-

mummy, dady and others —-

kill the smile and laughter

of the newcomer.

In the schools and colleges

the undue expectations of teachers

blight the youth of students

and make them miserable

beyond endurance.

During his tenure of job

government or private

the expectations of employers

their rules, regulations,

outdated traditions, discipline

punctuality etcetera

all conspire

to put a donkey’s load on his shoulders.


the excessive expectations of the beloved,

giles and wiles,

the huge hotel bills,

frequent pricy gifts,

exorbitant taxi bills,

kill well-nigh

half the romance of bachelorhood.

After the marriage

the sky-high expectations of wife

the children and inlaws

would have unnerved

even the great philosopher Socrates.

Besides, the expectations of

community, country, world,

environment, birds and animals,

institutions and organisations,

better remain unaccounted.

Further more

during his old age,

the expectations of doctors

as regards elderly’s health bills,

expectations of advocates

as regards court bills,

expectation of dear ones, relatives

as regards inheritance,

are all nothing but expectations

and expectations.

And, in the end

after his death

during his first encounter with God,

the latter said:

welcome, you guy!

your arrival here is opportune.

I have just now finished for you

a memorandum of my demands

that is, my expectations of you.


At the age of sixty

Atmaram retired from service —-

his relations with office

all terminated.

Despite this,

whenever he visits office

his old colleagues

offer him with great warmth,


even in winter,

a full glass of iced water

from the water-cooler

or sometimes

half of a half cup of tea

very strong and very black

from the office canteen.

What an inordinate concern

for the poor pensioner,

their erstwhile brother-in-the-job !

Else, who cares about whom

in this world of down-right selfishness

now-a-days ?

25. Good Morning !

With my rising from the bed

in the morning,

many problems also arise simultaneously.

As if they were lying in wait

in some far corner of the house

to attack their quarry

who after a long spell of reconciling

the philosophies of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle

with one another,

leaves the cosy bed

with great reluctance.

My wife Sujata complains

with justification

that she is over-burdened

with the responsibility of

running this home administration alone,

hence there's confusion galore.

Being under mental stress

She has put salt instead of sugar

in boiling tea

also, she has put sugar, not salt

in vegetable preparations.

Our cussed servant Ramu

is having a slanging talk

with neighbour's young maid

recently employed.

Intermittently the rascal is laughing boisterously

without any care for pending work.

Let him return

and I'll give him a piece of my mind.

Here, my venerable parents,

my mother and my father,

are busy in singing devotional songs.

Though their songs lack musical niceties

yet the loudness has disturbed

the sleep of our beloved cat

who, to show her feline displeasure

darts through the open window

and disappears from our sight.

She is evidently

not interested in entering

the blessed gates of heaven

which open up when prayers are soulful.

However, when the cat gets older

like my parents

and when her brain-screws somewhat loosen,

She'll understand it all.

At present she is young, virile and


The children are watching TV

instead of doing their home-work.

They are annoyed

as the teacher at school

had disallowed them

from bringing ice-candies in the class-

the real reason being

that they had forgot last time

to bring ice-cream cup for her


Further, the teacher allots

such a heavy home-work

that their mummy and dady

get completely bored

and sometimes quarrel over it.

I enter the bath-room

to get a shower.

I undress myself

and open the tap

but there isn't any water,

the tap is totally dry,

it means the overhead tank

is now empty.

I begin to ponder the issue

of taking bath daily.

Who on earth introduced the meaningless tradition

and made a life of so many

miserable and unhappy ?

I come out of the bath-room

grumbling and mumbling.


the telephone rings

and I pick up the receiver.

My friend Ramesh at the other end

greets me with 'good morning !'

I also respond spontaneously

with a Cheery 'good morning !'

And on my face are writ large

the signs of stupendous stupidity


In the drawing-room

of a big bungalow,

on the walls are hung

two imposing portraits

of a couple —-

a father and a mother

(mum and dad)

of the present owner.

Both have smiling faces

broad foreheads

and are well-dressed.

Early in the morning

as soon as

the sound of first visitor’s footsteps

is heard

the owner of the bungalow,


rushes to the drawing-room,

with two floral garlands in his hand

and stays put just opposite the portraits

till the visitor appears.

He then bows most reverentially

before the portraits

and after garlanding them,

crouches on the carpeted floor

with prayer on his lips,

seeking parental blessings.

But this is also a fact,

though now remembered by only a few,

that during the last phase

of their lives

both his parents

had left this very bungalow

(which they had built

with their own money)

due to arrogant and insulting

behaviour of their only son, Atmaram.

They had got shelter

in the small house of their distant relative

where though space and amenities were limited,

affection was unlimited.

27. Crazy Poet

He gets up in the wee hours of morn

and begins writing poetry.

On the First Occasion

his family members also woke up suddenly

and thinking that there was a miscreant

seized him tightly

but felt embrassed on discovery.

Now they have come to realise

that this kind of behaviour

is the result of some technical flaw

in his brain machinery

Or may be a handiwork of etherial ghost

having cosy abode in poet's mind.

How would any physician help in the matter

absolutely non-physical ?

Even Lukman Hakim of ancient fame

would have found this disease untreatable,

much less curable

He wanders about in office

with such an air of non-chalance

as if he has come down from another planet

on a visit to this earth.

His unkempt hair,

indifferent dress,

his 'devil-may-care' attitude to promotion in job,

his no-flattery please behaviour with the boss--

are all unique.

Once his boss opined

we should thank God

that he is simply semi-mad

things could easily have been worse.


After traversing thousands of miles,

many countries and barren lands

sans passports and visas,

these flamingoes

descend on the marshy sands of Kutch

every year without fail

to produce

a new generation of strong progeny.

The Rann of Kutch

provides them in abundance

comfort, freedom, food and rest.

Their happiness knows no bounds

and they enjoy every moment of their sojourn.

The young birds enjoy

the warm embraces of each other.

It’s the very romance of their lives,

fulfilment of both body and spirit,

they feel the long and arduous journey

made to this place

worth the making.

After some period —-

from the white eggs

the noisy young ones are born

who become flying - capable

in a matter of months.

Soon the couples and the birdies,

the entire families

plan their return journey

to their motherland

sans passports and visas.

These flamingoes perhaps know not

that some selfish and pseudo-

intelligent humans

the so-called leaders and statesmen of

our nations

have destroyed the freedom of their fellowmen.

In the name of nation, state, language, race and religion,

there are boundaries between countries,

impediments and obstacles

that prevent one human being from meeting


The plots are hatched remorselessly

to create division and distrust among humans,

create strife and ill-will

and consequent meaningless wars

which result in horrendous blood baths.

All this to enfeeble and destroy the future


to create Hell on earth

in place of Heaven.

The common man

Wants to be free,

he wants to live like flamingoes.

He wants to live in comfort.

He hates Hell

and craves for Heaven.

It’s Heaven that’ is his dream

but will he realise it ?


Today I am a free man, as you too are.

This guy is free and that guy is free.

The men are free, as the women are.

I wonder why then you are yet resentful ?

You’re free to come to office late.

You’re free to leave office for home betimes.

Even while not working, you continue to draw


It seems there’s freedom, and freedom


You can accept bribe without inhibition

as all officers are also free.

You needn’t worry about law-courts

as the judges are also free.

It’s not compulsory for professors to lecture

in the class

as there are other activities to get engaged in,

like seminars, symposia and conferences.

students are also not bothered on this account

as the examiners and invigilators are also free.

It would be better that you first get

a comprehensive life insurance cover

and then travel by train, bus or taxi.

You can travel by aeroplane as well,

and at ease

since drivers / pilots of all types of vehicles

enjoy the privileges of total freedom.

There are numerous, specialist physicians

for every ailment

and you’re free to be ensnared by any one.

In fact there isn’t much fundamental

difference between their attitudes

as every specialist is an expert

in lining his own pocket at your expenses.
The politicians are also totally free

as their promises go on piling up during election

and subsequently,

after the election

we all are free to join the ‘janaza’

marking the sad demise of past promises.

Janaza = Funeral procession

30. Cultural Heritage

Truth now remains dumb and humiliated.

The wickedness, not goodness, now dominates the scene.

There's little difference left between democracy and dictatorship.

Simplicity is on the verge of extinction.

The sweet Guru-disciple relationship is being buried fast.

Paper-degrees from educational institions only count.

The harmonious relation between husband - wife, father - son, brother - sister

have become thing of the past.

Selfishness has triumphed over renunciation.

The brave people are in the bondage of cowards.

The sycophants have become exceedingly prosperous.

In short, we have given a short shrift

to all our cultural traditions and values

in all walks of life.

But how ironical

that of late we've gone crazy

on the TV serials of both our epics

Ramayana and Mahabharat

which depict our age-old

traditions, values and way of life

and are our glorious cultural heritage.


Please don’t be ridiculous by proclaiming

that woman is an angel

or a deity come from Heaven

who should be worshipped,

since those who pamper women

in public

are the ones

who cause them to commit suicide.

Woman is simply a human being,

she hasn’t come from heaven,

nor from Hell.

She has the same rights

as the man has,

and the similar duties,

may be more arduous.

Man alone is not the owner of this Earth

nor is he more powerful.

But right from the beginning,

he has allotted to himself

the title of a ‘superior sex’.

He has also refused

to recognise her as a woman

in her own right.

In the deeper recesses of his mind

woman is a powerless human,

she is humble and docile,

she is less intelligent and less competent,

she is like his shoes to be worn,

like a toy to be played with,

like a wine-draught for a sex-hungry man,

yet she is the cause of his down fall.

In real terms

she is impudent and inglorious,

she is unchaste and unreliable,

she is notorious and bad character,

she has bad name everywhere,

her demeanour is condemnable,

she is the meanest among mean,

she has neither reputation nor status.

32. Birth of New Poetry

In the half empty coffee-cup

was mixed a small portion of sun.

Devils made a hop,

the awakened dead bodies from the graves

suddenly woke up, laughed boisterously

but the estranged souls wept unconsolably.

In the reservoir of coffee,

night mixed its blackness,

some ingredients of struggle and revolution

were added to it.

Then some innocent people were crucified

which evoked laughter among crooks.

some unchaste women smirked

some eunuchs made a hue and cry

to which

living dead bodies took strong objection.

On the scene

arrived a poet

who dipped his pen

in the coffee potion

in that unclean half-empty cup,

and with undue haste,

began to write from the wrong side

and in an alphabet upside down

without any motive or meaning,

without 'bahr' or 'vazan',

without 'kafiya' or 'radif',

without cadence or rhythm.

But no doubt it was unique and unprecedented.

One inquisitive person asked the poet

as to what was the meaning of the poem.

The poet replied :

This is New Poetry

and by your ignorance you are insulting the poet aswell.

However there will be thorough research

to find the meaning of the poem.

A seminar will be organised on appropriate scale.

There will be hot discussion by literary


Only thereafter

would the meaning and purpose of the poem be available.

For the time being

you have to have patience


I too am puzzled

as to what after all I have penned.

New Poetry = Free Verse, sans rules of versifiction

Bahr = metre, verse

Vazan = measure

Kafiya = the last letter in a verse

Radif = the rhyming word of poem


More than half a century has elapsed

since the end of Second world war

but there aren’t any signs of

Third world war breaking out.

This really had never been anticipated.

Some skirmishes have surely taken place,

but they subside quickly

or they continue so tardily

as if they were chess tournaments.

Immediately after dropping bombs

the planes disappear posthaste.

Majority of bombs drop into oceans

or in desert / mountainous terrains

causing almost no damage to human life.


bombers piloted by robots

will fight with enemy planes

also piloted by robots.

In the process

the poor robots in their hundreds

will be killed mercilessly.

Future wars will be waged

without human soldiers

and there would be no blood-shed.

The retrenched young soldiers will be

employed in computer industries

for training and manning machines,

the old soldiers will be compulsorily retired

as per prevalent government rules.

The nuclear bombs in their thousands

are getting rusted in silos.

Government had spent billions,

and numberless scientists had worked


for their manufacture.

But now fresh billions will be required

to defuse them.

So happily there will be no retrenchment

of eminent and patriotic scientists.

The world population is increasing

by leaps and bounds,

babies are born in such number

as if they are either puppies or kittens.

Further the old men have refused to die on time,

doctors have refused to obey

even God’s orders

and have virtually humiliated ‘God of death’.

There are even unholy conspiracies being hatched

to pass death sentence on ‘God of death’.

If the human being doesn’t die

what will happen to this domain of God ?


The stage is crowded by poets--

some tall, others dwarfish

some thin, others obese

some good-looking, others average

a few young, a great majority old

but most of them

suffer from baldness.

Every one has a diary in hand

containing poems composed

during last two decades.

The poems of old men

are full of love and romance

about spring and youth

about secret meetings of lovers

about their kissing and embraces

about wines and taverns

about wine-cups and cup-bearers.

But the diaries of young poets

contain poems

of displeasure, grief and sorrow,

of desperation and disloyalty,

of weeping and shedding tears,

of melancholia and death,

of separation, worry and philosophising.

Some poetesses are also present.

They have come in full make-up.

some have come in ‘salvar - kurta’,

some have come in semi-transparent sarees,

some are in jeans and T shirts.

The poems recited by them

are about full-scale revolution,

about wife-beating, abuses and rape.

some poetesses condemn inflation

some condemn poor quality of make-up material

of Lipstick and hairdyes

or children’s wear,

eats and drinks in hotels.

But the audience is quiet

as if they are dumb and deaf,

as if poets’ meet

is a veritable condolence-meeting

or, as if they are soon to join

a funeral procession.

The attendees don’t know

what the ‘rubai’ is

or ‘gazal’ is

what ‘kata’ is and what ‘doha’ is

what ‘kafia’ is and what ‘radif’ is.

For them , the poets’ meet

is simply a gathering of some crazy people.


The news of my death

didn’t spread like wild fire.

On my death

none was ready to shed copious tears.

On the contrary, some people smiled

some laughed outright

saying : This is a false news.

This man wouldn’t die so easily.

This requires a miracle to happen.

Even death would require some time

to contemplate on this tangled issue.

The brahmins who perform last rites

refused to come for their calling

as they required solid evidence

of my death.

They demanded a copy of death certificate

pertaining to the deceased,

duly authenticated by a Gazetted officer.

Morever, they had been engaged to perform ceremonies

at the residence of some one else

who had died earlier.

On hearing the news

God was non-plussed.

He ultimately spoke thus:

This man seems to be unique

as nobody has wept for him,

none has even expressed sorrow.

The brahmins have roundly refused

to perform his last rites.

They would not recite sacred hyms

but for which

his soul wouldn’t exit from his mortal body.

In consequence, his death would be

totally unconstitutional.

In the light of above circumstances,

I, the creator, Preserver and Destroyer

of all Cosmic life,

both big and small,

withdraw my earlier order of his death

and ordain the restoration of his life.

Let him continue to write poems

and torment his fellow humans.

This would at least

keep me free from bother.

About the author

Assan Vaswani "Majboor"

* He was born in Sindh (now PAKISTAN) on 27th Feb., 1932. He migrated to India during 1947 partition.

* He did his Masters degree (MA) in English literature and also in Hindi literature.

* He remained college teacher for 35 years - 7 yrs as Lecturer / Sr. Lecturer and 18 yrs as Principal. He retired in 1992 from Tolani College of Arts & Science, Adipur.

* He started writing poetry at the age of 15 and he has continued it till this date.

* He has written chiefly in Sindhi (mother tongue) and subsequently in Hindi and English as well.

* He has published 11 books (10 in poetry + 1 in prose).

* He has received 2 awards from State (Gujarat) Sahitya Academy and 2 from Central Govt. Institution (NCPSL).

* Some of his poems have been translated in English / Hindi and published in 'Indian Literature' and 'Samkaleen' etc - reputed Indian journals.

* He is an agnostic and a humanist.

* Satire and humour are the hall-marks of his writings.

* He prefers to write on current events (both national and international).

* This book (God Commits Suicide) is his first book of poems in English.

21 January 1900
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