Poem by Dharmpal Mahendra Jain

Dharmpal Mahendra Jain
I Want to Return You

I want to return you 
which I once had.

The pure air 
travelling with the sun’s rays 
through basil leaves:
I want to return that energetic breath to you.

The immaculate water
that flowed though
the ranges of the Himalayas 
over the earth,
shaping rocks to Shaivite.
I recklessly dispersed toxins in it.
I want to return that pure water to you.

The grain
that grew from soil
with no chemicals penetrating its fiber,
the one that gave life to the creatures, not poison.
In bloom, delighting of mother nature,
I want to return that fortune to you.

The blue ocean everlasting,
churned for nectar by ancestors
to attain divinity,
has become the big battle ground today.
Fleets loaded with warheads
ready to turn 
many countries into uninhabitable rubble
by defeating volcanoes of Imperialism.
I want to return that cool sea to you.

Turning into vagabond fire
or crazy elephants,
I destroyed the dense forests.
Wearing the skulls of my own people,
I never thought of wild, aquatic, or aerial life.
I drowned in the ego.
Now I want to return you the world 
as one family.

I want you to return
which I once had.
***


The teen in her grief

At the end of the first row 
she was in the reserved seat 
embarrassed by all the attention
she was receiving.
She was trying 
not to move any close to the visitors’
offering hugs for sympathy.
She preferred namaste 
with her folded hands
and felt good seeing the people 
paying last respect to her father
and returning to their seats 
in an orderly manner.
She stood alone in her grief
with an infusion of strength and sorrow,
to bid a farewell to the soul
that was enjoying the eulogies.
***


Generations Lost

The earth completed 
billions of rotations.
Delusional kings
won several wars, 
however, failing to humanize, 
they divided the land 
and crushed hearts.

We men and women, 
subjects and soldiers, 
walked to celebrate 
the hungry blind power, paralyzed.
We won the lands
with no one satisfied.
We ruined generations 
like tossing a candle in the fire.
***

About the author: Born (1952) and raised in tribal reserve of Jhabua, India, Dharm is a Toronto based Author. He writes in Hindi and has five published books- three collections of satirical essays and two collections of Poetry. He is a columnist for two prestigious journals Chankya Varta and Setu (Hindi). 


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