Ishq Mein Inquilab Hona by Pragya Lal

Updated: Feb 17

Speaking about the intersection of love and the revolution, Ishq Mein Inquilab Hona is a nazm of late stage capitalism that masks heartache with humour and alerts you about the fuckbois one meets politcally and romantically. 

Art: Rohini Kejriwal


Bade dino se chah rahi hoon,

Kranti,

Tum se,

Sarkar se,

Naukri se,

Badhte vazan se,

Ghatte patience se


Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai


Chronology samajhiye

Ye sab Right swipe

karne ka nateeja hai

Premi ki chuppi se lagta hai

Ki woh Modi ka bhateeja hai


Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Thama tha unka haath

Maan kar unko saathi

Kya bataye woh toh nikle

Sardiyo mein dilli police ki laathi

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Na jaane kya soch kar

Humne unko dil diya

Jab dekho who pooche

Tumne apna sense of self

Aadhar se link kar liya?

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Maanga than unse gulaab

Le aaye woh kamal ka phool

Unke ambiguous vaado ko maana

Readers, ye meri thi bhool

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Red flags ka kambal odh

GDP unhone di hila

Dil mera todd ke kehte hai

Desh seva ka mauka toh mila!

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Na horoscope na birth certificate

Na kundali milana hai

Suniye boomer chacha

Humko kagaz nahi dikhana hai

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Aaiye janab main aapko ek tippani doon

Ashiq desh ke ho ya hamare

Sirf ek cheez makes you shine

Public mein sansani phailane ko

56 inch ki chaati nahi

Sirf kaam ayega aapka spine


Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai

Chaliye

Isse pehle ki aap mujhko

Aur chot do

Bazaar mein na chale aise

Khote note do

Guzaarish hai aapse dear reader,

Iss February, AAP zaroor vote do

Ishq mein Inquilab

Inquilab mein Ishq

Khojne ki pehel jaari hai



Translation by Prerna Subramaniam:


I am waiting on revolution, on freedom

From you.

From the state.

From work.

From my increasing weight,

From my waning patience to wait.


Still trying to find

Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.


Do you get the chronology?


This is what a right swipe leads to.

Lover’s silence makes them

look like Modi’s nephew.

Still trying to find


Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.

Hands were held,


In hopes of being their soulmate,

They held me like the Delhi police holds

Their batons in the winters,

That my friend, is a lover’s fate.

Still trying to find


Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.

Thoughtless, I gave them my heart.


Only to be asked by them

If I had linked my sense of self to

Aadhar?

Still trying to find

Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.

I asked them for roses

They handed me a lotus

Got swayed by their ambiguous promises

Readers, this is how a mistake flourishes!

Still trying to find

Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.

They came wrapped in red-flags

And snapped at the G-D-P

Broke my heart and had the nerve,

To say they got a chance to serve the country!

Still trying to find


Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.

No horoscope, no birth certificate to be found,

No kundalis to match


Listen, Mr Boomer Uncle

We will not show the papers-no, there is no catch!

Still trying to find

Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.


Listen, let me

Give you an advice

They may be a lover of the state or be beloved of mine,

What makes you shine,

Is not a 56 inch chest

But a goddarned spine.

Still trying to find


Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.


Well,


Before there is more hurt to me

Or on the economy

for you to mount,

This is my request, dear reader


Come February, go make your vote count.

Still trying to find

Love in the times of revolution,

And a revolution in love.


Pragya Lal is a Bangalore based marketer, writer, lyricist and floral print enthusiast.


P.S. If anybody is willing to translate the poem to English, please write in to thealiporepost@gmail.com

 
 

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