Terrorism by militants, political or religious extremists, communalists, government forces... is growing and growing. Why is there no sight of an end? Because violence begets violence. And more violence. It keeps multiplying.
We were in Assam till the first half of 2004. The deeds of those who called themselves ‘liberators’ of the people were horrendous. The retaliation by government agencies was the same. The worst sufferers were mostly innocent people caught in between.
Here are some protest verses i wrote back in those days.
Blast
Full of life and fun
the little boy
just turned seven
looked forward to future
to do grown up things—
ride a bike, fly a plane,
bring mummy and daddy presents.
A loud burst
silenced
the spirited chatter
for ever.
Only
a bloody mess
and deep pain
remain.
Republic day 04
i’d love to celebrate;
fly the flag,
sing and dance;
but i’m scared.
scared of those who
silence songs with
guns.
sound of bomb is
louder than
music.
but louder still are
cries of orphans and
ravaged women.
what price liberation?
We were in Assam till the first half of 2004. The deeds of those who called themselves ‘liberators’ of the people were horrendous. The retaliation by government agencies was the same. The worst sufferers were mostly innocent people caught in between.
Here are some protest verses i wrote back in those days.
Blast
Full of life and fun
the little boy
just turned seven
looked forward to future
to do grown up things—
ride a bike, fly a plane,
bring mummy and daddy presents.
A loud burst
silenced
the spirited chatter
for ever.
Only
a bloody mess
and deep pain
remain.
Republic day 04
i’d love to celebrate;
fly the flag,
sing and dance;
but i’m scared.
scared of those who
silence songs with
guns.
sound of bomb is
louder than
music.
but louder still are
cries of orphans and
ravaged women.
what price liberation?
Drowned
our homes are drowned in
flood of blood
and tears.
they come from jungles,
loot, shoot,
commit carnage.
then come bigger guns
from cities;
more carnage,
more cries.
those on higher grounds
watch it all in a
mirror.
they cluck or chuckle
while our homes are drowned in
flood of blood
and tears.
Sorry to offend your tastes and sensibilities with this ‘bloody’ stuff. But reality needs to be shown, however unpleasant.
8 comments:
how true. as northeasterners, we try to break away from the sterotypical image of the NE as a zone of perpetual conflict yet, even here in good ol' mizoram, violence seeps into our lives one way or another. whether it's some local incident that happens here or farther away, in manipur or nagaland or assam or...the fact is that what happens in one corner of the NE affects us all deeply.
and it doesn't stop because it's good business! for militants and TPTB alike. just another money minting machine that won't grind to a halt until the citizens of that particular state decide enough's enough.
though, frankly, maybe violence is so hardwired into humans that we wouldn't know what to do with ourselves if it vanished from our system.
monazo, you hit the nail. violence is good business for some parties, that's why they don't want it to stop. and then it's so cruel on the victims.
it's also true that violence is wired into human psyche. even babies are into it! but then, the excessive form must diminish, or the beauty of life is marred too bad.
'fraid I'm one of those who shy away from violence and sights/sounds/talks of it. When I was younger I used to actually get angry with victims for being so helpless which I now realise was my way of dealing with the unpleasant side of life.
I was thinking just the other day sth along these very lines. Like how can the people who order these brutalities be so oblivious to the preciousness of life. Don't they even feel a twinge of conscience or are their egos so blown up they feel their cause excuses the expendability of human life?
calliopia, i too like to avoid any attention to violence of any type and sweep it under the carpet. but when it keeps hitting you in the face, some reaction is called for.
once i read about a rebel leader who, when he was a child, couldn't even bear to hurt an insect. he grew up into the very guy who probably ordered those incidents that provoked these poems.
i like the 'what' of this bunch. not sure i like the 'how'. seem to fall flat after your usual stuff. prosaic, somehow. they have potential, i think, but tried editing them/polishing them recently?
guess you're right, feddabonn. perhaps that's why they all diplomatically steered clear of commenting on the pieces and discussed only the topic.
Not true, I think they're in your usual beautifully expressed style of simplicity and clarity. The theme is just so powerful we couldn't help being sidetracked by it :)
Thanks, Calliopia. I was just thinking may be they're too raw. It's often very hard to judge one's work, so i heavily depend on others' intelligent critique - not that i swallow everything whole.
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