The Berlin Wall was in news recently which inspired me to publish a poem written in 1992.
Tender eyes emotion stained, hearts over brimming with love,
Lips sealed for words could not express.
Hard to believe reunion was real,
But remembered the separation clear.
Then hair was not grey and eyes blue,
Taut skin fresh and youth full bloom.
Sunlit were the days after the war,
People had hope to reach far.
Horizon had to be touched,stars settled,
Houses to be rebuilt, lives taken ahead.
Income was low but hopes high,
Defeat or victory couldn’t make them die.
And then it happened! A blow to humanity,
Concrete and bricks were erected to divide nationality.
Politicians pulled the reins tighter,
Citizens couldn’t stop them either.
Grandmother lost her grandchild,mother her child,
Siblings were separated never to unite.
The structure grew higher, on blood and bones,
Lived those who compromised,others died jumping stones.
Hearts were divided by this structure tall,
Which they later called the Berlin Wall!
But it had to happen someday,love had to win over hatred,
Wall was painted with screams and appeals, desire to regain lost home, no further could recede.
Anger and emotions struck the wall together,
Making the strongest of bricks shudder.
The outburst was stronger than the wall,
Now it had to fall, once and for all.
Written in 1991, everyone can relate to it today.
They are the ones, who live to spread death;mislead by enemies of humanity, their souls have fallen in dirt.
They are the ones, who kill for fun, no matter what is done;obsessed with violence, they find no other way, but do not know that their children may also fall prey,to the bullets of the guns, which bring widowhood,anxiety, sorrow and pain.
They think, they are superior to us, but have committed greatest of crimes by betraying their nation, just in mistrust towards us.
They have till now pierced nation’s heart, for those, who once were a part of this very nation, now divided by political bars.
Not only do they support those, who sliced their mother nation’s food bowl but even drained half life from her wounded soul.
They who think will free the people,don’t realize, are snatching right to live,in multiples.
What freedom and peace can they attain?When their own mind and body is caged in devil’s fist for certain.
Which nation can they be building? When have broken flourishing homes willingly.
What joy and progress can they achieve? When their way is brutality in chief.
Whose tears do they promise to consume? When their conscience is already buried in tombs.
What life can they give? When themselves don’t know how to live.
No eyes to see the truth,they are blind to the core.
No ears to hear the cry,they are deaf, filling the world with hatred.
Not that we hate them, its their deeds we despise; let’s tell them they are humans and not God’s alike.
Let no child become an orphan, let no mother be devoid of her child.
Let’s tell them they are wrong and we may retaliate.
Let’s tell them to live and let live on our land, for the day is not far when people will not accept fate’s hand.
‘Beware’ the ocean of fury may rise, among those who have sacrificed their loved ones for a meaningless cause wiping their existence once and for all.
Written in 1990 after I read about the war going on in Beirut…..today it can be about a lot of countries which are directly or indirectly involved in war. I could have improved the poem but decided to let it be as it was, written by a teenager.
You and I were there, when the Sun went down in the ocean;
The sky was clear, rest dear and melody in the air;
Birds were chirping, dusk within and everything else was thrilling.
But, do you know what happens, when the rain falls heavy on the poor?
Their houses break, the lives are at stake and everything is washed in tears.
The children cry, they weeping die, in the search of their dear mothers;
They fill the graves; the unmade cakes are still to be baked in the ovens.
Do you know what happens, when the dark is night, even the day is not bright and hearts of people are shaken?
Fear surrounds in the broken towns, oh! Blood is even in the beer.
Death is their shadow, still will to live is in peoples’ bone and marrow;
The shells blast, in peoples’ past and future is in hands of heaven;
In present they die, not once but by and by,
Not by the hands of heathens.
Do you know what happens, when a child is stabbed by bayonet’s knife and tears of sorrow are rolling?
Words fail to tell their tales and guilt in us is arisen;
Chirping birds, the shinning roads and all other pleasures are soaked in;
By the sponge in heart, which feels the dart, hitting, people of unmade nations.
FRIDAY, 20 MARCH 2015
Posting the last painting of this series by Mrs. Kanak Sinha. She graduated from Vasanta College for Women,Banaras, which is affiliated to Banaras Hindu University.Her fine arts teacher was Shri Avni Kumar Sinha, lovingly known to students as Avnida. He was from Kolkota School Of Arts.The unique thing about his classes was that all the students in his class were given just a topic and every student had to compose a painting on their own thus no two paintings under the same roof were the same, there was no copying , all compositions by every student were original.
This painting depicts the story of an “untouchable” woman, Prokrithi who was mistreated by villagers because of her caste.She found a new life when a Budhhist Monk named Anondo requested her to give him water to drink from her well, breaking all the barriers of caste rules and told her she was equal to all other humans. This story was written by Shri Rabindranath Tagore in 1933 to bring awareness about the futility and unfairness of caste system.It was turned into a dance drama in 1938.