Rifle
By Ramlal Sinha
“Rat-a-tat-tat
Boom boom boom,”
Drum-fire continued
In riot zones in Karbi Hills
As if to greet you when you were born.
Helpless was Terangpi
At an advanced stage that she was
On the desperate lookout for a safe site
Just not to abort you amid the bloodbath,
Could any woman ever prevent that natural force?
She had to give birth to you
Amid the refugee camp inmates
Who instantly christened you Rifle,
A befitting name indeed, only when viewed
From the moment of your arrival on this earth.
Rifle, will you keep silence,
And say no to this mayhem, bloodbath?
Do a legendary Prahlad and preach love;
Let your sweet voice reverberate in the hills
And its echo in the horizon and in the globe.
Be the voice of orphans
Who’re made to be so in thousands
By the gun-totting rebels and jawans,
Tell the world the tales of terror widows
And the woes that they continue to live with.
By Ramlal Sinha
“Rat-a-tat-tat
Boom boom boom,”
Drum-fire continued
In riot zones in Karbi Hills
As if to greet you when you were born.
Helpless was Terangpi
At an advanced stage that she was
On the desperate lookout for a safe site
Just not to abort you amid the bloodbath,
Could any woman ever prevent that natural force?
She had to give birth to you
Amid the refugee camp inmates
Who instantly christened you Rifle,
A befitting name indeed, only when viewed
From the moment of your arrival on this earth.
Rifle, will you keep silence,
And say no to this mayhem, bloodbath?
Do a legendary Prahlad and preach love;
Let your sweet voice reverberate in the hills
And its echo in the horizon and in the globe.
Be the voice of orphans
Who’re made to be so in thousands
By the gun-totting rebels and jawans,
Tell the world the tales of terror widows
And the woes that they continue to live with.
Courtesy: The Sentinel (August 23, 2009) Melange
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