Thursday, 18 December 2014

We haven’t forgotten 16 December yet and I don’t think this nation will ever be able to. This particular incident shook this entire country. Two years have passed since that day. And after that day, whenever this chilling December arrives and winter reaches its full intensity, I am reminded of all those series of incidents that took place on and after that day. And then, something dies in me. This particular month is etched in my mind as a month of slaughter of humanity. 

I wrote this particular letter last December. This is an imaginary letter from ‘Nirbhaya’s’ mother to her daughter in which she describes how her family is doing without her since that day for last one year :-

YOUR STILL ALIVE MOTHER


Dear daughter,
I know how much you wanted to live,
I read that last message written with shivering hands.
You were such a fighter.
I so much wanted to reduce your pain,
But trust me dear- your mother was helpless, all went in vain.

That last night,
When whole nation stood with you in your fight,
Your father and I sat there at your bedside,
Hoping an iota of chance will reverse this gloomy darkness,
And will get us back our daughter.
Your brothers were busy demanding from God,
to return them their loving sister.
And on that horrific night,
We lost our only source of happiness.
Your brothers and I were inconsolable,
Your father acted strong though he was shattered.
We all cried, this nation cried for you dear.
Everyone said you were brave, a girl without fear.

Now we have come a year ahead since we lost you.
But not much has changed since that last night.
I heard about some change of laws,
But many daughters continue to suffer the same plight.
Your perps have been given death penalty,
One has killed himself on his own.
We were given a flat and your brothers took government jobs.
Many ministers came by to join us in our sobs.

All four of us have resumed our mundane lives,
Or at least we are trying to,
But sometimes we really miss you.
Sometimes when I see your cupboard(it still contains your belongings),
Your clothes, your favorite party dress, your books, your novels, your earrings,
Your colorful dupatta-those beasts must have torn apart ignoring your screams.
Your bridal dress reminds me of some broken dreams.

Now your father doesn't speak much.
He is a strong man-always showing a composed behavior,
But sometimes I see him dropping a tear-watching our family pictures.
Sometimes I see him sighing with disgust while reading his morning newspapers.
Sometimes he erringly shouts out your name reckoning you to bring him tea.
Other times he sobs silently seeing a wedding invitation from some acquaintance.

Now your brothers don’t fight for the TV remote,
They no longer fight for that one t-shirt they love,
But seeing your side of their bed empty-they curse their fate,
Something dies in all four of us little by little.
And when this mind numbing pain of your loss becomes unbearable,
When the deafening silence engulfs us,
We all hold on to each other-becoming each other’s strengths.

Somewhere in my stolen moments,
I wish I could get you back.
Slowly we will make peace with your absence daughter,
Lots of love from your still alive mother!



This poem got published in Nblik (a publishing magazine ventured by the undergrad students of IIT BHU).

Monday, 15 December 2014

That particular judgement on that particular day made me dig deeper, and I wrote this when I was in my 12 grade..


 THE JUDGMENT DAY


Awaited with bated breath, the judgment has come.
Oh! What wretches have they done?
Long ago, he took birth to wash away evil from the face of earth.

When acrimony and demonized deeds surged,

To unfetter his children, he emerged.

When people were distraught and suffering with pain,

Truth, benevolence and peace were in vain.

Beasts were making all lives – HELL,

Humanity was like-“oh god where do you dwell?”

He took avatar in such a crucial time,

To make goodness reign supreme over crime.
How apt and extreme must have been the purity of that place,
Where my Deity lied in solace.
But today, the judgment has come, and decision has been made to split the land of his arrival,
Among these so called sects-HINDUS N MUSLIMS-being skeptical.
The fight had been on whether to retain a mosque or construct a temple,
Besides, political predators using opportunities ample.
People are killing and making each other strangle,
Just to convert the shape of a building from a dome to a triangle?
Some to appease their sentiments and others out of their selfishness,
Using HIS name-no matter RAMLALLA or ALLAH- curse to their shamelessness.
Today, the judgment has come!
But to make this judgment, these human arbiters are none.
Splitting into pieces a piece of land,
They forget the final judgment – they will have to stand.
With my folded hands I pray, “Come back if you really exist”, forbid me to say.
Eliminate the Ravan within each one of us doing terrorism and corruption,
Save this mankind from rancor, helplessness and destruction.
Make an end to this menace, for my heart is yearning to feel your presence!



This particular piece was written by me when that disastrous calamity struck several parts of Uttrakhand two years back. It really made me think that why do people (including me) visit such religious places if they are to face this kind of plight. And then, using my own wits and knowledge (acquired by reading and watching mythology), I concluded - for my own satisfaction - that all such miss happenings are some kind of a revenge that nature beleaguers us with..


WHEN THE CREATOR SEEKS REVENGE



O mighty kedarnath, listen up for once!
For your fury so mystified,
Was not an inch justified.
Why didn’t you save us,
and let yourself untouched.
For heaven’s sake!
We were no sinners,
But some innocent souls laden with emotions.
We were no wrong doers,
But had faith and devotion.
How could you watch our killings with a slight?
Shut your eyes upon our plight?
And you are the only one to blame,
Cuz being the creator and the DESTROYER is only your claim.
YES! I am the creator, preserver and destroyer!
I created this world so beautiful,
This nature so bountiful,
But not to be destroyed by you-Remember.
What about the trees and mountains you mangle?
What about the cows and sheep you strangle?
What about the rivers you have killed?
And utter apathy with which your hearts are filled?
Today my Ganga seeks revenge!
Throwing back your scum she lets herself free,
“Never lessen the NATURE”-setting this decree.
Cuz sometimes, to stop nature slay,
Innocents also have to pay.


Sunday, 14 December 2014

Indian ministers seldom practice what they preach. So here we go..


THE INCORRIGIBLE



Come what may, I am never budged from my stance,
For my bureaucracy is known the world over – US, China and France.

Levying taxes is my sole duty and work,
Who cares about these wretched poor?-unnecessary burden on earth,

I revel in filling my treasures,
For corruption is one of my favorite pleasures.

I can turn into an animal while discussing your fate,
I have a tendency to nullify whatever says my rival mate.

I am a rapist, murderer and freebooter,
And to put me behind bars –who has the bloody power?

Rules, laws and empathy are big words for my demeanor,
For my red beacon takes me above all, makes me superior.

I will deceive you with the promises of betterment and satisfaction,
But once I m done, don’t you dare to disturb me till next elections.

Don’t mistake me for a rogue!
Because I am the one who is in vogue.

Don’t call me a sinister,
For I am your very own, the most revered minister!