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* * *
The Sounds of Silence
Absences too long,
Longings too painful to bear.
Hopes cruelly dashed;
Despair unwillingly embraced.
In silence, I wept.
Wounds canyon deep,
Hurts unwilling to heal.
Heart heavy day and night,
Memories unwilling to fade.
In silence, I screamed.
Mistakes, like crumbling walls
On both sides to mend.
Sorries, like unmentionables
On both sides waiting to be said.
In silence, I prayed.
Prayers went unanswered,
Wishes that drew blanks.
Lamps burning, no light.
Sun shining, but no warmth.
In silence, I froze.
My insides burnt,
I was all afire.
I found nothing for solace
My tormented soul to soothe.
In silence, I yelled.
I waited till dusk;
I was there since dawn
To embrace you once more.
As always, you never came.
In silence, I cried.
TD Fuego II
* * *
ASPIRATION’S END
Snake of time-
loath to recoil
slithers, hisses, knows no impediment,
and swallows all;
on its way
it coils, constricts,
crunches the toughest terrestrial prey.
Snake of time creeps
in the lush grass
of our playing field; it sucks
up our dreams
fears and foibles,
our unfinished businesses,
our vaulting ambitions.
Snake of time takes an eternity
to digest its earthly bounty,
writhing into the fundus of infinity.
* * *
FROM ON HIGH PLEA
Let me feel
through the swirling mist
the sanctity amidst
the surreal.
Let me glimpse
the power of piety
and all its holy panoply
as I humbly admit being amiss.
Let me transiently sense
the rapture of a prayer
and shed life’s earthly layer,
to discover transcendence.
Let me for a moment
re-imagine the innocence
from a distance
of blissful benign times spent
in supplications here
with father, dear.
Jeewan Ramlugun
* * *
WHAT’S A WEED?
First on the scene
after the Luftwaffe blitzed East London
were weeds: bracken, thorn apple, ragwort,
willow-herb from the rubble did sprout
stubbornly-the eerie re-christened bomb weeds.
The fatigue camouflages of the combat comrades
did not compare with nature’s die-hard, yet humble
downtrodden species, ever ready to dissemble
to survive.Shapeshifters they became,
repositioning and re-tinting –still the same.
Till now, perversely, the plantain
despite underfoot abuse suffers no pain,
even better for it , as it thrives.
Another, danish scurvy grass survives
the choking emissions on the motorways.
Buddleia, modest and spartan stays
Unperturbed on soilless surfaces.
But, it’s been a love-hate affair
with humans, everywhere.
Nettles, cherished by the Romans,
were carried with armoury and chattels
to foreign shores.
Though woodlands’ foes,
rhododendrons remain in gardeners’ affections;
and the medicinal virtues of garden pests have struck
a common chord with all concerned with physic:
among these yarrow, comfrey, burdock and heartese.
However hard weeds have tried to please,
their detractors have a long history;
in medieval times, they were considered akin to devilry
with imprecatory name-calling to extirpate them:
devil’s claws and devil’s fingers being part of the stratagem.
A weed is ‘just a plant, in the wrong place, at the wrong time’.
Jeewan Ramlugun
* * *
Anti Conversion Law
So much is being said about on ‘anti Conversion Law’ that is to stop one from changing from one religion to another, especially concerning the Hindus. From what I read in News on Sunday 12-18 Nov, even SAJ in his wisdom opposes it. How can we have such a law? We must be really dumb even to think about it.
We live in a democracy and we are free to choose our faith and way of life. Maurice est un Etat laïc. According to the Voice of Hindu there is an urgent need for an anti-conversion law. Who will vote for it? It’s like the cat, the mouse and the bell.
Why are so many of our Hindu brothers and sisters leaving the fold to join other denominations? That’s the question that should be addressed dispassionately by our socio-religious organizations with the help of sociologists and other social activists. Our socio-religious leaders would do well to reflect upon this question and take any corrective measures rather than pandering to the whims and caprices of politicians.
Many Hindus have jumped on that bandwagon and hundreds more will join in the future. But what puzzles me is why their women still drape the saree.
Mona. R. Babajee
Port-Louis
* Published in print edition on 10 December 2010
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