Kids Corner


I Bear Witness ...





This poem is the fourth of a new series of works on by the author to mark the 30th anniversary of the Indian Army’s desecration of the Golden Temple in Amritsar.

Weep not my son these cuts will heal

You beat your breast you rent your hair

Your eyes are pools of dark despair

As at my open wounds you stare

Bestill yourself my restless child

Behold my timeless tranquil face

The years of restless bloody strife

To some bring tears to others grace

From verdant halcyon days of past

Now shrouded in the mists of time

My body clad in silk and gold

Bestirred the lust of hungry eyes

They came in droves the panting beasts

Fueled by their dreams of Roman feasts

They fed with haste and drank their fill

My body red my silks in shreds

First came a hero bold and young

At head of lusty conquering horde

He brought his lance his shield and sword

But not the grace of Aflatoon

Then came the sons of Khorasan

Their eyes ablaze with Allah’s light

But alas they too were here to rape

Believers too did their daggers smite

Thundered the spawn of Tamerlane

As thousands did he put to sword

Until the sting of an Old Man’s words

Did shame his soul and stay his hand

And then it dawned, the golden day

Of pallid gods with flaxen hair

Who spoke of Truth with gentle tongue

As deeper still their daggers dug

And yet my son each time I rose

Pulling to me my blood soaked rags

I bled then too, as I bleed now

But a wondrous tale I have to tell

For all these tyrants came and went

They tore my flesh spit out my blood

And yet each time from the dust I rose

My wounds were gone my body whole

And that is why my gentle son

There is no need for you to weep

The molten lead of Hindustan

It pierced my skin and struck my womb

But like it did in the days long gone

My abyss spawned a million sons

Your mournful dirge vermillion song

A ballad bold for the fallen ones

May 18, 2014

Conversation about this article

1: Sangat Singh  (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia), May 18, 2014, 6:01 PM. is forever touching new heights. Reminds me of the erstwhile Readers' Digest and not the present one that has degenerated to singing paeans of toothpastes. Sher ji, it is under your stewardship that it is planting flags, each higher than the other. We will soon run out of space. Thank you, Sarbpreet ji, for your nuggets.

2: Vijay Singh Bajwa (Marlboro, New Jersey, USA), May 25, 2014, 2:38 AM.

In a word, powerful - capturing history's sweep in a very evocative way. Kudos!

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