I want to be naked...
This Thought-Provoking Poem On Behalf Of Little Taimur Begs You To Mind Your Own Business
I have just landed four days ago
In a fragile little body
Snuggled in the arms of my guardians
Their prized possession
A much awaited ‘offspring’ to my celebrity parents.
They had been anxiously waiting for my arrival
Ecstatic and intrigued.....
They announced me to the world.
I was conferred with my share of ‘instant fame’
Embarking on to a helpless journey
Into the murkier corridors of paparazzi
Thanks to the Almighty!
I am already a sensation.
The moment I became a physical separate being
They gave me an identity
I am called ‘Taimur’.
My father, a history buff
Chose this for me
It comprehends to ‘iron’ or 'iron-like' in Arabic
But the ‘people’ have a problem with it.
They have labelled me barbarian
My name equated to a ‘mass murder’
If the same 'Taimur’ has reincarnated.
I share my name with a Pak missile.
If ‘Mughals’ had invaded us once again.
And a few others,
Churning their ingenious brains
That I might not find a girlfriend,
For my name was too old fashioned.
Disfavour, disapproval, a disregard
My name has them in abundance.
They have trolled, mocked, condemned
Speculated and scrutinised me to the core
A concoction of interpretations indeed!
I am too tiny to respond
To your generous outpouring of displeasure!
And to the painstaking post-mortem
Of my name.
Or, for that matter
Reciprocate your immense adulation
On the social media.
You have meticulously exercised
Your freedom of expression
With a rhetoric.
Now, If you could mind your own lives
Than dissect and decode my name.
Let my parents revel my homecoming
Till then, put your utter nonsense to rest.
Taimur Ali Khan Pataudi.