Waves Of Loneliness

By U. Fathima Farzana

A great stone memorial squats snug

On a shapeless black weather-proofed rock;

Swami Vivekananda stands towering inside –

He too is weather-proofed.

This is the symbol of Kanyakumari,

(Cape Comorin; so my Word Processor

Doesn’t filthily underline my words)

The tri-sea tourist fetching Holy Grail

Of the Southern tip in your Google Maps.

The golden painted eyes of the wandering monk

Stare at the wandering throng at his feet –

Foreigners wearing jeans and t-shirts,

Indians in see-through clothing –

All of them respect his loneliness

And leave him alone.

Some curse the boat authorities;

The fare is too expensive.

“We’ll have to walk on water

Like the Swami to escape the fare!” they giggle.

Is this ‘oneness of all’?

The Swami’s lost dreams beat against the shore,

The tourists whisper inside the meditation hall,

They peer at the sculptures,

All those legends of yore cut in the rock…

All those mythical rakshasas, angels and gods

Lost to the ages and cultures of the past,

Staring at the lost horizon.

“Don’t touch” says the board near the black elephant.

The tourists get back before the sun sets

When the red flag is taken down.

Only the moon and the stars

Keep the Swami company.

Only the ever faithful beam of the lighthouse

Dances across the stone chamber

Wherein a great mind is caged.

Only the distant quivering light

To make the legends come alive again.

The tourists and pilgrim-turned tourists

Wander aimlessly along the shore

Shopping for cheap accessories, utensils,

Fake gadgets and perfumes..

Like their fake faiths and cheap souls.

The rich go for spas and massages.

Few sit by the black waves, pondering

Pen in hand, mind in their fingers,

Writing poetry.

What was once blue and green

Is now black.

Just black.

Black and stormy, foamy and tossing,

Crashing on the shore in ringlets,

Cold and dark, bearing the loss

Of legends and a great man;

They howl and wail,

The waves of loneliness.

By U. Fathima Farzana