NEEDLE AND SPADE
K. J. Thomas
It is a matter of utter shame for you and me
Our false pride caused our bereaved mother
Dragged and crushed
Like a red rose under the boots of Nazis in the sun burnt
streets of capital
She sought justice for her dead son
It is a matter of utter shame for you and me.
As a maiden once upon a time
Did her best for you and me
And grow we strong enough to reject her when she needs
help,
Yes, we too did best for our mother
Like a red rose she was crushed under the boots of
Ravanas,
It is a matter of sheer ego and victory for you and me
and we took spade for solution.
But it is also a matter of utter shame for you and me
when it led to violence and ‘hartal’
It would have been a matter of simple daily routine for
ancient Lord Rama
When his subject sought his help
With merciful hands he would wipe her tears and
With needle of love stitched the broken threads
And she would go home easily in love and peace
Everyone would be happy and prosperous in his kingdom.
It is a matter of utter shame for you and me, the
comrades of modernity
Despite our technology, we know nothing about the art of
love of Lord Rama kjt/06-04-2017
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