A sudden gust of wind
unwinding the locked tufts
of grass and of bright gulmohars
glistening amid the green branches.
Cherry-red lips moistened
with some drizzles longing
Holy waters flowing ceaselessly
to slake everyone’s thirst
the gongs and bells ever ringing
to spread peace and prosperity
but for whom?
They say nothing moves
without your order, O Lord!
The sharp eyes of the photographer
Famished, his furtive glances absurd
The fancy of the poet cheats
him of all his images fainting
gasping breathlessly for want of oxygen
milling crowds begging for spaces
both in hospice and in burial grounds
a belated coupon uselessly earned
but for whom?
No priests can awaken the dying mortals
losing their hopes before a virus
depleting mankind of their taste and smell
your messenger could forbid, O Lord!
Could all your sons foresee your cruel commands?
Depriving millions of wearing their newly stitched dress
designed to celebrate yearly festivities
failing their promises to their kids
dreaming for a covetous career
craving for years to continue the generational cycles
but for whom?
It’s time for prayer again, O Lord!
Open your eyes and see the venom
Your agents have spread through winds.
How can you loosen your hold upon the world?
You promised of health, harmony and happiness
Devoid of caste, colour and creed
The pet phrases of a handful of messiahs
Safeguarding their undivided reign.
No more are seen waiting for your cruel commands
Yet you stand with muted breath
but for whom?
The vast stretches of land
watch silently the atrocities
perpetrated on lambs every day
in the cave under caveats
at entry and exit points.
The day time gravity- a mere covering
bristles sacred hymns to hide cruelties
mixing kindness with equal measure
triumphing over worldly passions
under a façade of gentle smile.
There reigns an undivided peace
making way for the hissing serpent
to slough and slander away
for its innocent prey,
unaware of the worldly game.
The gentle bite --- a sudden jerk
a livid look—all in vain.
And there stood a simpering soul
wearing white-- like white lies
Lo! The messiah had come.
Binod Mishra teaches English at Indian Institute of Technology, Roorkee, Uttarakhand, India. A Ph.D on Mulk Raj Anand, Dr. Mishra specializes in Indian Writing in English. He has authored five books and edited 16 anthologies on various topics of English literature. One of his books titled Communication Skills for Engineers and Scientists published by PHI India is prescribed as a text as well as a reference book in many technical institutes. He has also published two poetry collections, namely Silent Steps and Other Poems (2011) and Multiple Waves (2017). Besides books, he has also published a good number of articles in reputed journals.