An Intolerant Skin As I Am

By Nimain Charan Biswal

An intolerant skin

as I am

can least put off with

the joys selflessly surrounding the objects around me:

The birds in the trees

singing notes of perennial joy

amidst spring and winter alike

careless of the thunder-storm or showers of freezing stones.

Can never remove my eyes

from the old women loading their heads with firewood

returning homeward least bothering the lots for tomorrow

singing to their ears songs born not of suffering

save few incoherent utterances to their heart’s content

disregard of the mathematics of losses and gains

So provincial

so predominant

can not relish the unthwarted sovereignty

of the tiny tots giving themselves

to the unconquered zones of their own mind

along the sun-bathed shores of silence

unaware of the bluest ever blueless sky

to be blown up in the crazy air-superiority race:

F-22 Raptor

Su-57

Rafael

Amca

No metaphor can ever decode

the deafening roars of Rafaels

the tireless SU-30 in dog fights

the avenging thrusts of Indian Lioness

mercilessly piercing the Devil’s dens heavy with

the bloods of innocent lives:

Hindu or Muslim?

Male or Female?

Child or Adult?

and

bullets from point blank:

skidiki skidiki pap pap

ceaseless throbbings of Ak-47 and AR-15

breaking the silence of an earth’s paradise-

The Switzerland of India.

No words to praise

no hymns to chant the greatness, bravery and sacrifices

of the angels of the sky

at the face of Doom:

MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY

those desperate hands throbbing to fight the worst deluge

that consumed all mortal cries

in a sudden ball of fire and fury;

those God-designed moon-cold faces

those angels in human shape

long reside in and outside human memory

as silent observers of human destiny.

Alas!

I find myself in a world of zero tolerance

where the fisherman’s tots are dancing and singing

along the sun-bathed shores of silence and solitude

least bothering the mighty waves to come about

and monitor a clean sweep after the earth’s

falling apart beneath the sea

incapable of bearing the burden

of the man-made towers of pride and glory.

I can not gaze at those laughing buds

whose boundless joys and exhilarating games

with the unbridled waves do not appease me

nor do the sparkling waves have a wink’s recess

to find an outlet in me and dance

to my heart’s throbbing

to outdo them in glee

I envy you most

Rare Earth

the mother of all those breathe and unbreathe

nothing can ever equal you

in power, honor, strength and endurance

Mother of Mankind-

Mary

Eve

AL Kebu, all merge into one

the Primordial spirit

That once sat Dove-like and proved

the test of universal brotherhood

begot a form out of the formless

Intolerant and helpless as I am

can never relish the bounties be stowed upon

those that I envy most

Dear God

I wish I were they!

By Nimain Charan Biswal