Monday, 26 September 2011

Preamble to A Drafter’s Rejected Bill


i can conjure situations
flip through endless possibilities
by the stroke of my pen
who be that sinister, evil psychopath
that i will devise?
what be the future 100 years
from now?

through the years
i spend my time
refining the skill
staring at empty shadows
deep into the nights
revising documents, reworking
sentences, 30 times, 50 times
painstakingly editing drafts

“you do it effortlessly”
“you are damn good”
so, we sit with policymakers
read through bills
“strike that”
“no, that’s not comprehensive”
what they propose
what they deem  important
is like confetti dipped in mud
but cheerfully, i ask them
how it will work
upon which they get a revelation
of their “ideas” and “policies”

but you cannot arm-twist me
into writing bad law
i am a prophet staring
into the future
with my pen poised
to the boundaries of
no surveyor delineates me!
i have tucked with me
the combined histories
of the world, their politics,
their fears, their hopes
their collective stature

yet, you who instruct me,
are you willing to respect my art?
are you ready to treat  me as a professional?
i will not lose my sleep, though,
mankind’s approbation or opprobrium
comes least
let me be, let my work be
its feet clamped into Now and Future
conjuring scenarios upon scenarios
if that be, that will be my crowning moment!


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