On the death of a Rebel (Poem) He lies clad in sombre white, Flowers and florets pell-mell pile, His carcass on a coffin bed, Under a roof made of thatch. In fits and starts the women wail, In mournful peace the men are trapped, Gibberish chants the priest murmurs, That he may cross the river of the dead. The States Communiqué celebrates, The head that bore the States bounty, A murderous rebel is killed at last, His death shall bring an age of peace. Say those that throng the dead mans yard, He was a warrior staunch and brave, Freedom! Freedom! his refrain, He is a martyr deserving of grace. The bereaved mother sits in a corner, Tears and cries she does not squander, Like a statue in unawakened spell, Musing over thoughts unknown. Exclaim his comrades in loyal praise, Fallen, fighting bravely enemies strong, For not his musket starved of rounds, His foes wouldve been where he lay. There she squats in unchanging calm, What he was: rebel or not, Is not the musing afflicting her mind, Nor her heart is in martyrs salute. What could her stubborn musings be? His tender babbles or steps unsure, Guiltless grins with gums so bare, Or that he now lay in bloody rest? What should her flaming musings be? His foetal rammings startling her sleep, Pangs of labour in retrograde time, Or the gory demise so ill timed? They now rise, his palanquin to bear, Over the pyre he must preside, Chants and yowls tear the air, While he inspects his last death parade. Someone among his blood kin, Lights the pyres underbelly, The flames in homage dance in tune, Soon there would be a heap of ash. In the creeping silence she would miss, As smoke would thin and embers dull, He who once was her flesh and blood, His voice shall neer hail mothers name. What could her voiceless musings be? While the crowd lightly peel, Before mothers lonesome night, But he she bore for long nine months! Weakened, wading weathered trails, Cold in silence, dead in grief, Sly tears her old furrows kiss, As if to nurse her stolen loss. That which is meted out, Upon ye too shall befall, In the silhouette of karmic light, Dwells her musings secret soul! @Surchandra@
Posted on: Sat, 23 Nov 2013 12:00:34 +0000
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