Wednesday, June 3, 2009

The legacy of hate...

The Prelude:

What inspired me to pen this one down was a series of events. Firstly, a detailed TV report on the defeat of LTTE and the death of its leader Prabhakaran. The report also laid stress on the severe violation of human rights and an old tactic of LTTE of using Female Human Bombs. One of the kinds that killed perhaps the most charming PM India ever had, Rajiv Gandhi.

Followed by these reports I also happened to see, perhaps one of the most underrated Bollywood movies of all time, Dil Se which really aggravated the urge to vent my poetic frustration…That is exactly what I did, albeit in a storyline format which to some purists might be too long for it to be called a poem… Who cares!!

So here it goes…

Fallen lies our soldier brave,
Misguided by beliefs, she dug her own grave,
Now she lies in eternal sleep,
Leaving behind hundreds to weep

A false battle she fought all her life,
Someone else’s ideals became her strife,
High on the venom of vendetta and hate,
She herself was the author of her ugly fate

She’d seen her sister being raped at five,
The fanatics set on fire her mother alive,
She was held by her hair and dragged a mile,
The cops merely compiled her miseries into a file.

A childhood full of trauma had gone astray,
Under the tutelage of terror and guns to play,
The lessons of violence were taught so well,
How they would manifest no-one could tell.

She was chosen then, to be part of a demonic plan,
Despite being a girl, she was the best in her clan,
The spectacles of hatred, the world will watch with aplomb,
The holy sacrifice will be made by a human bomb.

The girl who could have been a mother or a wife,
Was now prepared to sacrifice her life,
Thinking ability of her mind, since childhood was chained,
The moment had arrived for which she was trained.

Twenty sixth day of January did arrive,
The Republic Parade was being telecast live,
Thousands had gathered to feel the pride,
Bejeweled with her pearls, ready was our bride.

The President had taken the last salute,
The army band was playing the flute,
It was just then, “BOOOM” went the sound,
With it, the sound, took hundreds to the ground.

The masters across the border had reasons to celebrate,
The plan they’d conceived, had worked just great.
Bloody corpses lay on the hospital bed,
Official figures stated four hundred dead.

Our little girl never realized I guess,
She was used like a pawn in the game of chess,
The result of her mindless act,
Could prove to be more heinous in fact

Another one of the orphaned child,
Could take the path of cruelty and go wild,
She never realized what she did create,
She left behind a legacy of hate…

Write... Pray!

I want to write. Mostly because I want to be read. Truthfully, because I want to be understood. I love writing because it leaves no scope fo...