Small Is Beautiful

It's time for a new post. And what should it be like? I've already given two poems from "In Harness," my first published work. One more post will do.

Here is one more poem. 

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1 . FROM THE TOMB OF A HAWAI CHAPPAL*
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I’m a discarded hawai chappal
Floating in the Bay of Bengal
Long forgotten and drifting in silence.

I’m an unsung hero,
No farewell arranged for me–and who bothers?
After a selfless series of tireless chores
Now I’m tired and hence retired
It’s about time I go.

I gave the constant company
To my master in all his journey
To the seashore, to his bath
To the jungle on the uncharted path
He made me go, so I went along.

When in a queue for his cooking gas
In the scorching sun waiting for hours
Or before an officer bribe-loving
Frightened, fold-handed, ignominiously bowing
He kept me afoot, a confidence kit.

Among the less equals while browbeating them
Or, in the deep embrace of his beauty, the undressed
Searching for his lost coin crawling under the cot
Or kicking the dung heap on his enemy’s face
I was his strength, a willing friend.

Alas! It was my love unrequited
I was denied this little privilege
To enter a temple with him,
Left at the gate sobbing and silent
For those gasping moments of a life wasted.

The God in the temple, the God in the heart
The God of the sky or the God on the earth
The God at the bar or the God with whore
The God in the garbage or the God at slaughter
Isn’t He the one and the same?

Then why did he hide his God esteemed
So stealthily away from me?
Why, then, was this punishment for me?
Am I not a soul innocent?
And should he not repent that?

Gracefully—or maybe by mistake
He has chosen to bury me in the ocean
Where priceless jewels dwell, and mermaids flock around,
Where dragons scare the devils to frightfully abandon
Their buccaneering plots and unholy missions.

For years million the multicoloured corals here
Make the rocks smile in self-fulfilment,
Where in days of yore in the tug-of-war
The gods duped the demons in a game of unfair
Just for a few drops of godlike nectar.

Now I have no regret;
The rest of my days will pass this way
Beneath the starlit sky, amidst the mermaids;
The dragons and vampires will lull me to sleep
When I am tired beyond my fatigue.

While sleeping for good not to wake up again
I’ll chant the psalm of a meaningful existence
Into the depth of the cosmos, unto the sublime vacuum.

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*Chappal=one out of a pair of rubber slippers
By
A.N.Nanda
RANGAT ISLANDS
04-12-1995
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