Skip to main content

The War











The lust for bloodshed,
Cries and wails.
Broken domes,
Victory and fame,

Orphaned children,
Widowed women,
Corpses and crippled soldiers,
Defeat and shame.

Athena helped connive
While Ares watched lain
As Keres bore on
her rummage for the slain.

Dragons flew over
Breathing out the hot fire
Horses ran in menace
While the ruthless warriors
Kept slaying sans penance.

A realm is now demolished
Another expanded
A king’s head is chopped off
another smiles with triumph
With pride he looks
At the lives lost
While he prepares
For his kingdom
Of unwilling acolytes
Frigid women
dismayed orphans
and an empty throne..

 Read more at Taj Mahal Review Dec. 2012 Issue














Comments

  1. thats not fair, i was supposed to write on war first, but anyways i wouldnt have written this good, well done....i love this poem...phod diya sabka dimag

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. haha, thanks.. btw gave you two-three days ka time.. you didnt write so i did :P

      Delete
  2. Wel visualized and articulated! keep writing :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Well written...Can be interpreted at so many different levels. I liked.

    ReplyDelete
  4. one's loss is another's gain....reminds me some hollywood movies.

    ReplyDelete
  5. It initially reminded me of Martin Luther King Jr.'s words which were used in a Linkin Park's song Wisdom, Justice, And Love. Further it made me recall about the World war I. In which the winners lost more than the losers.

    And ultimately, it forces me to question the need of war. Why do such smart people put so much at stake for nothing? When no matter what, you are going to lose, some if not more lives, some if not more ammunition, some if not more money. Why? The reason is same as it is for petty fights we indulge in our daily lives. He has a reason you are not ready to accept and vice versa . It happened in Iraq, it happened on 9/11 in US. And it will continue that way, if we don't bridge that gap of communication. That might help avoid those petty fights between friends as well.

    I wrote a similar poem someday so I could relate to this poem as well.

    Very well written I must say. Congratulations for your book. Wish you plenty of such opportunities in future. Your blog has that mango tango to it :D

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. thanks a lot for reading and appreciating :)
      and indeed, wars are a waste of time, money, human lives and what not.. and I wonder if the victory gives enough pride to fill what has been lost..

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Pee Journey

If you’re someone who has traveled long distances holding the urge to pee and hence, doubtful of drinking another gulp of water, you’ll probably understand what I’m going to talk about. Every time the vehicle I’m traveling in gets a jerk because of the bumpy road, I fear I’ll get back to being the 5-year old who peed her pants in her sleep.
If you’re a woman and traveling, here are some pee stories that may act as a caveat or a tip for your next journey. :-P
Mumbai to Hyderabad
I remember taking an overnight bus from Mumbai to Hyderabad which I had boarded at 8pm. By 11pm I knew I couldn’t sleep if I didn’t pee. I go to the driver and ask him to stop at a hotel I see ahead. He doesn’t. I stand near him for more than fifteen minutes asking him to stop because I had to pee but he just wouldn’t stop anywhere else but the dhaba he usually stops in. He would say we would reach there in ten minutes. I finally had to hold my pee for around two hours walking to and fro the aisle of the bus,…

The Self-Help Book

He slicks his dark black hair back with his fingers. Outside, it was broad daylight, offering his dark brown eyes a view of the western part of the city. The neighboring tall buildings remind him he is on the 22nd floor of his workplace. He finishes off the remnants of his black coffee, already cold by now. The half-smoked cigarette burns out on the ashtray. He pulls the ropes of his French window and his cabin is no longer reminded of the world outside.
 He turns his swivel chair with the support of his desk to face a laptop in front of him that wastes no time in taking him to another world altogether. The white striped shirt he is wearing with his dark grey tie match the colors on the back of his laptop that flaunt the initials “S. R.”.
* An unexpected knock on her door wakes Sheena up from her siesta. She reaches for the yellow dupatta lying carelessly on the other side of the bed, as if it was equally tired from the previous day’s work. She wears the dupatta around her neck cove…

The Boy in the Train

"You'll always be late for the previous train, and always on time for the next.” 
― Piet Hein

I rejoice whenever I get a window seat on Indian trains whenever it’s a chair car (otherwise Upper Berth would be my spot), more so when it is the last seat near the door, usually marked 4. There’s always more legroom for those who get the last seat. The TTE (Train Ticket Examiner) sits in the same seat on the other column, marked 1, which feels quite safe for a single woman traveller. When I need to leave my seat for a short break, it’s the TT (in short for TTE) who would watch over my luggage. When I need to ask how delayed the train was, it was again the TT, my neighbour for the journey.
However, sitting near the TT comes with other experiences too apart from the sense of security. There would be travellers without a ticket, looking for a vacant seat, who would sit on the TT’s seat itself pretending it’s theirs and later being laughed at, when busted. There would be people coming t…