A Byte of Moonshine

Painting by Steve Hanks


Sharpen now a crescent for the rite of moonshine,
Bullets will not halt the flight of moonshine.

Clouds germinate on the zephyrs from wet hills,
The heart leaps windward with the kite of moonshine.

I count my blessings over the timeline of Facebook
Waiting in the tunnels for a byte of moonshine.

You have dug out ghosts from the debris of centuries;
The upper crust of yore lose the right of moonshine.

The blanket of venom has enshrouded the firmament;
A black sun has risen since the night of moonshine.

Tar black are tears that she shed on my kismet,
Fortunes of my foes kiss the white of moonshine.

Uma, those who cabaret in the blinding noon of life
Forbid me to step out in the light of moonshine.


  1. I’m glad you passed by those who cabaret in the blinding noon, and you were able to dance in the moonshine. I too would try a ghazal if you and Cynthia hadn’t set the bar so high.

    1. Going by those exquisite 1001 compositions, you can write a ghazal even in your sleep. Cynthia is the maestro of prosody; I am but taking my baby steps.

  2. Drawn as I am by the sound of your verses, this minion is hoping that her interpretation of is in consonance with that of the creator. I am led by the terms like Facebook and Byte to infer that this is about the battles we wage on the virtual space. Do correct me if I am wrong.

    1. Let me put it like this: I am in consonance with my patrons like you. Facebook is but a manifestation of the thought process symbolising a cultural shift to nada of which the urge to post statuses and selfies are the most common symptoms. The second verse clearly belongs to the affliction affecting our lives on multiple levels. The urge to blog, Shadows of casteism, communalism, misfortune in love and parochialism colour and suffuse other couplets.

  3. those who cabaret in the blinding noon of life
    Forbid me to step out in the light of moonshine.

    that says so much Umashankarji –

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