River Nila
Nila,
are you weeping
keeping memories close to heart?
Why do you flow for centuries
in the past, in present and
in future,
without knowing the purpose
on the shores where
hot blood flows?
upon the sinfulnesses?
why do you suffer the pain?
The birds who eat carcass
eat up the smoulders now.
In the sound and rhythm of
the mad conch shell
flew away in panic and fear
the crows who eat the rice
cooked as ritual for the dead.
In whispering letters of
the borders of imagination
as the noise of conversation
in unfamiliar language
your never ending tears turn
into dreamless days and
the sinners, the fools
drain and drink the blood
and tears oozing upon
your hewed motherhood.
When the thoughts
of greed for wealth,
which know the falsehoods
which time accepts as truths,
tear of the curtain of end,
do you cry unwittingly
my dearest Nila, tell me
how many thoughts of chastity
still remains
in you?
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