Saturday, January 24, 2015

Tauji

Tauji
While the world was lost
     in the frenzied tunes of urban lark,
In the countryside a faint flicker was
     tiptoeing through the dark,
Slowly-slowly the torch
     burnt high and bright,
Dynamic dimensions of its raylets
     woke up the slumberous masses for a fight.

Dignified confidence and exalted impulse
     of light went flunging forth,
Historically harassed and exploited millions
     got fresh hopes in south and north,
Lo! The fringe folks arrived
     at the forefront,
As the brightest star of Haryana
     in the sky brightly burnt.

Tauji, how high and mighty thou were!
     Still so down to earth and simple!
Corpulent informality thine
     brought always a smiling dimple
On every face tormented by
     a worrying wrinkle.

Thy simple soul,
     Always solemnly cuddled into
the paternal throes of composing
lushly-lustrous future
     for each and every one of us,
And when the brightest son of Haryana
     was gone for the eternal sleep,
A scar was created incalculably deep,
     While our helpless sky
fell into a mourning hush.

Still, O Tauji!
     Thy steady and unvacillating goodness,
And that persistently pronounced forthrightness
     will always remain with us
to guide us clear of every trouble's crush,
     Thy enlightening sagaciousness,
And the robust bravado of your heart
     will continue to inspire new green
sprouts in land troubled by thirst.

How fulsome was your love
     for the common people!
How refreshing was your smile's verve!
     Temper so gracefully proportioned
and enchantingly simple!
     How immensely forseeable
was character yours!
     Just like a path straight
and an open book of pleasant hours,–
     Without any twists and turns,
O Tauji great !

Thy large-hearted liberality
     was simply unbelievable,
Sacrificed the Nation's highest post
     without tiniest trace of grumble,
Now, others follow thy legendary step
     and reap the political fruit,
But alas, hear they not
     the cries of masses mute.

Who can forget
     the old-age pension,
Aha, an enormously elaborate
     example of public work !
Gone was crippling old's tension;
     Rhythmically gleaming
smiles now lurk.

O thou farmers' messiah !
     You tactfully removed
the noose of debt from their neck,
     Gave then a
fatherly pat at the back,
     And they – helplessly hemmed in by
the merciless loops of modern banking–
     found utmost solace
in thy patronage loop,
     Heavily indebted backs with a droop
got straightened with pride,
     Launched thou then
a new tirade against hunger,
     New hopes now linger
in peasants' dry eyes of yore,
Opened as thou a new door
     to pride and prosperity.

Mystic subtlety and exuberance
     of thy demeanour,
And freely elaborate freedom
     of the 'human' in you,
Reach O subjects at the King's
     threshold at any hour,–
Aha, no officially reprimanding queue!

Your legacy burning
     like a lamp
in stillest of silence,
     And thy charisma holding
in spellbinding balance,
     While time's arms
swinging helplessly and silently,
     Grows as the great man's
legend almost exponentially,
     Continue it will to
shine as our path's light,
     And we the sturdy sons
will toil to reach the height
     where you wanted us to reach–
A new, fighting determination
     in heart each;
To get the justice
     for everybody wronged;
A new prosperity in homes
     where it never belonged;
For the youths a fresh start;
     Evolve we'll a new art,
Whereby everything is in
     exquisitely fine-proportioned
parallel to your cause,
     Brethren! Let us prove our gratitude
to the man who brought
     in teary eyes a smiling rose.

Long live our
     grand spellbinder's legacy!
God! Let it perpetually
     cut the time's fabric mazy!




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