Whose is it?

Whose is it?

Whose is it and who are those

Who own as they chose

To be the masters of the land

The water, river and the sand

Homeless they make me as they leave

Bereft of everything they tease

They do as they please

Hearing not you and me

You are you and I am me.

Whose is it and what is there?

Not mine, as I stare

They need me to watch

As they sleep,

Peacefully with their lavish dreams

They live, they drink and they dine

Telling everybody, ‘I’m fine’

To myself, I am alone and shy

Ashamed I am as I cry

Whose is it? If not mine

It is thine, it is thine so it is fine

Silverstruck all I need

Some jingles of coins the sound of which

I feed, my father mother and baby dear

With the gun I stand on the lines near

Full of venom of enmity

You for enormity, me for petty. 

One

One

Wondering at the wonderful

My amazement knows no bounds

Such is the vast scale

At which you lie

Not motionless

But agog with a going

Moving towards unknown

From unknown to another unknown

It leaves bewildered

Amazed

Astounded

Patient

With a silent music

The rhythm that tones with time

Rhymes with the whole

That cannot be perceived

Beyond all concepts

Still going

On and on

From onward to onward

Here and there

My tiny hands want to touch you

Want to feel you

Want to hear you

So big,

So wonderful

So huge

My longest word will fail to catch

My cleverest phrase will fail to reach

My shrewd intelligence fails

I hold my breath

To close my eyes

And watch you all in one

A single whole

I feel you

And with my open arms

I clasps you

I holds you so near

To the my bosom

You become one with me

Me with you and

All one

Simply one

How solitary we are

As one.

Hero

Hero

I work like you
just as you till the land
dig the sand
break stones
clear the hills
cut the wood
or the trees
or the hit the hammer
hard on the anvil
to soften the iron sheet
or take the bricks
from the cast
and fire them for the street
I work like you
all for money
the money that will warm the hearth
back at home
the money that will buy
milk for the toddler
ration for the kitchen
that will pay the school fee
and the carriage
that takes my child to school
or the power bills
that keep my house lit in the dark
I work like you
all for money
you at your place
me at my place
they call me soldier
in camouflage
the country
the nation
the patriot
all come later
first comes the face of my child
then her mother
and then my mother
whom I left worried
back at home

They say I guard the country
they say, I serve the nation
they say, the nation is proud of me
they say, I am hero
they say I am great
these things sound better
for the applause
or for the books
misnomers they are
But I know
I serve the orders
obey the commands
as demanded by commander
I hear the words ‘fire’
and I don’t know what it is
my benumbed finger becomes hard
on the trigger
I don’t know what happens
I work and I know
I have to work
there is no other way
except to work.