Poetry

Freedom

Late last night, absentmindedly 

I looked out,

as the world went past my car window.

A pause at a traffic light.

A grubby hand knocked on the glass

leaving stains on the pane.

I looked through into the distance.

The face of the unkempt child blurred

in my indifference;

the hazy shape of an infant at her hip

The car clock beeped midnight;

That hour when India began its Tryst with Destiny

75 years ago.

I looked again at the child outside

She was smiling and waving,

paper tricolours in her hand

10 rupees a piece.

I pulled down my window,

How much for all? I asked

She counted, as the baby looked inside.
(What beautiful eyes it had!)

120 rupees, she said.

I took out 200, instead.

The smile widened into a grin

And she skipped away shouting

Into the dark spaces beneath the flyover

That hulked along the road.

I placed the tricolours reverently

Next to me, on the leather-covered seat.

They will adorn our home in the morn,

amidst the marigold, jasmine and green.

If No One Heeds Your Call, Walk Alone
By Nayantara Maitra Chakravarty,

In India’s darkest hour, when brother killed brother on the street,
The Mahatma’s belief in ahimsa, faced the biggest challenge it could meet.

“I will not accept failure,” said he. “If needed, I’d rather choose death.”
“Violence, I will conquer with love, or keep trying till my last breath”

Hundreds were butchered in Noakhali and thousands of victims had fled,
Hatred & fear filled hearts and minds, as the once peaceful land bled.

The Mahatma walked undaunted, though paths had been flooded to stop him,
He walked alone through scorched villages, hearing tales agonising & grim.

“Don’t leave, be brave,” he told all. “Remember you are brothers in arms,
Our religions teach us to love each other, not wish each other harm.”

His message brought people together, bringing peace to the troubled land,
The Mahatma’s moral courage, even the coldest heart could not withstand.

Gandhi ji had shown the world, ahimsa’s immense strength and power,
History still remembers Noakhali, as the Mahatma’s finest hour.