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!