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Mainstream, VOL LIV No 13, New Delhi, March 19, 2016

The Uncommitted Sin

Sunday 20 March 2016

He is a guileless fellow of the seraphic land,
_ He is a naïve lad of the rustic terrain,
_ He is a clueless fellow of the world outside,
_ He is a darling of his parents,
_ He is the sole glitter of his kin;
He is a guileless fellow of the town...
_ He is the same naïve lad for the running city;
_ He is an awed boy in the new ambience;
_ Has reached with a deluge of dreams;
_ Has found the avenue to his roaring ambitions;
_ Is ready to embark the path of struggle,
_ And walk relentlessly on every ruin and rubble,
_ To realise the flicker of his aspirations;
_ To taste the luminosity of this completion,
_ To make true the hopes pinned on his precocious shoulders;
_ To fetch a gush of bliss in to the familial
_ bondage
It happens one fine day,
_ He goes on to his business with exams on his
_ mind,
_ And pressure thumping his heart wild.
_ To face the first competition of his life...
_ But there lies a grotesque scene ahead of all the
_ strife
_ To his shock the city heart is blown into tatters,
_ By somebomb boomed few seconds, that matter
_ There lie smithereens of the once vibrant racing
_ city
_ Of the once humongous entity.
_ There shrieks furious cries and stupefied corpses;
_ for horror meted out brutally, left to rot like
_ carcasses.
_ And now goes on the search of the perpetrator.
_ And now sets on the crazy frenzy of an
_ eliminator..
_ To entrap and hand over the culprit,
_ To avenge the lives of the thousands, throttled
_ with dogged grit..
_ To account the government with their expeditious
_ disposition;
_ To save their saving grace in the line of their
_ position.
_ So goes on the wild hunt to find a prey very innocent
_ To trap the unfortunate scapegoat, one from the
_ Crescent.
_ Yes he can be the easy suspect,
_ And the prime suspect too, with no shadow of
_ doubtful aspect.
_ So there the lad is dragged to the chains...
_ And banged into the dark corner of that
_ horrendous bane,
_ The poor guy lies distraught at the shock of
_ events.
_ Strangulating his psyche and sheer reason,
_ Of what, where, when went wrong...
_ Of the enormity of his lucid and luminous
_ dreams.
_ Is it too a part of his struggle...
_ Is it the price one has to render for the
_ fulfilment of his goal
_ Is it an admonition to his mischief and pranks
_ played back at home?
_ Is it a premonition of some ugly future doom?
_ He is tainted with the tag of ‘terrorist’,
_ Tortured and mutilated to bring him down to the
_ status of confessionist
_ Maimed and at the end incarcerated to at last
_ prove he is anti-nationalist
Yes, now he is a proven terrorist...
_ A proven menace to the society
_ An anti-social maggot?
_ Who needs to be vanquished?
_ From the face of the earth
_ He lies dead on the bed of mortar of his desires;
_ He gapes unblinking, the space visualising his
_ burial in the smoulders...
_ Of his strangled identity,
_ His crippled physicality,
_ Now indeed, has he embarked the path of
_ languishing struggle?
_ And doused into every ruin and rubble...
_ Now The POOR implicated, billows the esteem
_ of the Nation,
_ And satiate the unflinching façade of just
_ consecration
_ Of justifying the many lives in the light of the
_ justification?
_ Of dehumanising another human in the name of
_ humanity?
_ Of demonising trust and innocence in the guise
_ of conquering atrocity?
—Fayezah Iqbal
[Fayezah Iqbal did her Masters in Spanish from the Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. Writing being her passion, she has been writing for various blogs since the last three years.]
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