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| Gopal Lahiri |
Sometimes, when your words interrupt,
They smell at your skin, I feel restless.
If only you believe, religion means soft wind blows
over your head, I can resist to the end.
If only your fingers steal some shadows of the mountain,
I can inhale the delta inside.
If only cornered by silence, the lonely bird slowly pull the mask
Back on us, I can loiter in silence.
For the city square always looking hollow, dark alley is a real misfit
in the stillness of night.
About to disappear from our terrace, I see the ripple mark on moon’s face
and those long legs of water birds at the distant ponds,
Even if for once the olive turtles breathe the hidden skin and
undress in the estuary sand.
The fear we nurse for years dig deep, the cerulean sky is now
reaching the blank space.
………………………
Hundred Summers
(Jallianwala Bagh)
For the hundred summers
The tears that were shed,
the memories that were blurred
now celebrate the martyrs,
The battle won, the butcher’s palm cut
The funeral pyre lit up in flames
In courage and gallantry,
Seeds are sown, the flower blossoms,
The birds are tweeting happiness,
The sky recalls the fervour and glory.
There is only muted grief and sadness,
Lamps are ignited in remembrance,
The memorial shines in bravery.
while there is void and emptiness, nullity and fear and there is resistance too in "Blank Space" in "Hundred Summers" the mood is of muted celebration for the martyrs' cause.
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