Thursday, August 14, 2003

Epitaph to an Unknown Hero


He washed his sweat ridden face in the crystal clear water.
But stopped, as it turned red after a distant blast of mortar.
He sighed! The colonisers had struck again,
Leaving the country insane with pain.
When would this bloodshed end?
When would under nationalist pressure, the foreigners bend?
A mother pallu tugging boy into a hardened patriot he had turned
What had his people done, for such a fate to have been earned?
He went scurrying when a convoy of sepoys passed by
At the hands of a British sepoy, he would never die…
On reaching his hideout, he was in for a shock
His men and sepoys lay in pools of blood all over the walk.
He was arrested and taken off to a high security jail
Which if compared to facilities of a city jail would appear pale.
Day after day, night after night, he fought against all adversity
But a day came when his bony frame almost gave up to everyone’s pity.
Even in jail he had fought for the freedom struggle through various ways
And now independence was coming closer, a matter of few days.
Over the ice laden peaks above the jungle, the rising sun saffronised the skies,
Which resembled an Indian flag to his watery apocalyptic eyes.
His heartbeat stopped for a moment too long
Just before he could hear the freedom gong.
The calendar next to him fluttered with the date 15th August 1947
A day when martyrs like him could finally rest in Heaven.

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