Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Who are we not to die? (Tribute to Hayikanti Mandyoli)

Even though our conversations were occupied by death
Every sentence you would remind me of what it should be
When you die. As the end neared you gallantly faced it like a beast.
Unfazed by the fear of uncertainty you were calm until your last hour.

All the knowledge shared, and all the hearts poured.
All the years, months, to the seconds spent counted for nothing.
Hurt so much that your heart stopped and fighting at last.
I could not stand your mortal body lying in death bed as
I remembered your immortal teachings.

They teach us that every sin faces an equal punishment.
Not too little and yet not too severe, yet you were subjected to such pain.
What matters if the best men cannot die a better death?
What will make me feel better if your image of your mutilated body,
Lingers on my head every time I go to bed.


I have never seen you lifting an hand to a child.
Yet you promised to break their backs when they transgressed
You have taken all the crying children into your chest
And sung them a lullaby until they were also deep into their sleep

When I am asleep it’s better because I know you are smiling at my unconscious youth. I wish I had known you were departing so that I should have sent my greeting to Baba, Qamata, and all the others I did not bid farewell to.
Should you have taken me with you I would be glad too.

Like a soldiers I say you are happy you are there.
And I cannot wait to join you in my sleep.
I am not sad that you left, but I am just mad that you left me.
How selfish can naïve person be?
Can you imagine when this race is won and we are all there?
We would all be dancing with our kings in the hot sunny day.

Some of us would be blowing the legendary horns
Only a mad men would be a sane person around us to make sense of death