.Tuesday, August 22, 2006 > Updated: 03:53 am .
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Reflections on Gujarat
Poems, paintings by Rooma Mehra
 

 

GUJARAT 2002
 

 
The stench
 
from burning flesh
 
like smoke
 
from the cremation
 
of a
 
smiling child.
 

 
Blood
 
from dripping
 
knives
 
carve wounds
 
on the
 
weeping roads
 
of my country.
 

 
At the end
 
of this tunnel
 
the Buddha
 
smiles...
 

 
But who will
 
end
 
the tunnel?
 

 
Worms
 
eating tunnels
 
into gullible minds
 

 
who will
 
fill
 
the tunnel
 
with the smile of Buddha
 
burnt
 
in the cremation
 
of a
 
smiling child?
 

 
AFTER THE WAR-1
 

 
A sighing sun
 
Scooped out
 
A pen full of
 
Morning mourning
 
Spelling
 
Stumbling sun steps.
 

 
The final
 
Fumbling failures
 
Fading to
 
Faltering falls
 
Never to rise
 
Before breaking
 
Its rainbow nib
 
On a screaming sky
 

 
Black bloodpools
 
Emanating from
 
The weeping wound
 
Running into
 
Blurred eternities
 
Burying
 
In their inky folds
 
An embarrassing error
 
Forever.
 

 
The day after
 
Nothing...
 

 
No day...no after
 
.....
 
nothing
 

 
AFTER THE WAR-II
 

 
So many stars
 
Sleep
 
An eternal slumber
 
In the heavenly embrace
 
Of a sleeping sky
 
...unseen
 
Unawakened...
 
By a wisp
 
Of a whistling wind
 
...unfelt.
 
Since the day
 
A zillion eyes fused
 
In a nuclear fission.
 
Forgotten...
 
But for the black hole
 
In the heart
 
Of the sleeping sky.
 
A mute testimony
 
Of days gone by
 
Telling no one
 
the story
 
Of the earth
 
That was
 
Once upon a time.
 
When stars shimmered
 
And the sky smiled
 
Because life saw...
 

 
But it is of no consequence
 
Really...
 
That era ended
 
A long time ago
 
And who is listening
 
Anyway...
 

 
Sun Search
 

 
The scratch
 
of my nib
 
scratching corners
 
off a night
 
on its eerie
 
lonely journey
 
dragging me along
 
as one would
 
an afterthought
 
yet never
 
enfolding me
 
in its secure blanket
 

 
I just manage
 
to catch
 
an elusive corner
 
to scratch
 
a letter
 
a single shaky
 
letter
 
A lost "S"
 
hoping to spell
 
Sunrise
 
as the night
 
drags me along
 
heavy
 
in its
 
invisible hands
 
into an
 
abysmal tunnel
 
No light filters through
 
my shaky "S"
 
No sound
 
Just the scuffle
 
of nib and night
 
while the world
 
sleeps...
 

 
A New Dawn
 

 
When dreams are done
 
and the night stretches on
 
Murdered moments,
 
minutes, hours
 
but the night stretches on.
 

 
Dragging feet trying to
 
escape
 
Nothing, tags along, heavy
 
Memories erased, so long
 
ago
 
but, nothing, tags along,
 
heavy
 

 
Covered an inch, a foot, a
 
step
 
and dawn is miles away
 
on the other side of the
 
mountain
 
Dawn is miles away
 

 
Fall, lie back, conjure up a
 
vision
 
but memories have been
 
erased
 
When the end began its
 
stumbling journey
 
All memories were erased
 

 
Get up, go, another step
 
The night must be spent
 

 
Dawn lies at the end of
 
night
 
The night must be spent
 
Give up, surrender to the
 
night within
 
but sleep is blanked out past
 
The day is miles, mountains
 
away
 
and sleep is blanked out
 
past
 

 
Draw an illusion with
 
heartburn
 
on the canvas of the night
 
But ashes mingle with ashes
 
on the canvas of the night
 

 
Night falls heavy on lidless
 
eyes
 
Glowing embers from the
 
fire within
 
Look into a mirror to see two
 
suns
 
Glowing embers from the
 
fire within
 
And a dawn
 
is born
 
from the ashes
 
of dreams.
 

 

 

 
 
 
 
Author's Home  Waiting for a new dawn Authorsjourney
Poems by Rooma Mehra

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