Tuesday, December 29, 2009



DR K Prabhakar Rao

once on a moon lit night, I was at Rajghat@

At the banks of lovely river Yamuna Ghat

Wanted to pray for the dead soul of the slain leader

And I remembered a poem from a nursery reader

I thought I heard a sound from the black marble

Where poor Gandhi’s ashes were covered under rubble

Some one laughed at me from a nearby grape vine

As shivers went down from my chilling spine

I thought dead Gandhi spoke from the grave

Yet I was putting a face mighty brave

The marble echoed Hare ram Hare Ram

While a child cried from a nearby parked pram

Gandhi asked from grave whether I was scared

“Not at all , least”, I blared

Across the road lay the dirtiest Delhi of shitty politics

Where dreams of Gandhi are now with shady fanatics

Again there was a weird Gandhi’s laugh

I tried to look clam and gave a cough

Do you feel sorry for Gandhi? He quipped low

‘Not even once” I said without raising my eye brow

Dreams of Gandhi lay shattered across the road

Where politicians behave as the dirtiest toad

“Are you happy that Gandhi died?” I heard the voice

“of course” I said for the politicians to rejoice

Again the eerie laugh I heard from the marble grave

My nerves trembled although I appeared brave

“Come close to me my son’, Gandhi spoke with a smile

I was lost in thoughts for a while

I felt sorry for Gandhi turning in his grave

While his dreams were burnt in an autoclave

One and all are busy in the murky rat race

Ready to break the heads with a heavy iron mace

Tears dropped from my eyes on the green lawn grass

As the flame on altar flickered in a pot made of brass

I really felt sorry for Gandhi who gave up his life ( infact taken away)

To give freedom to a nation that was on strife

Thankless nation has forgotten grand old man

His teachings are more or less under a pan

Poor Gandhi must be feeling sorry for his fate

While the sentry at Rajghat was gulping rum at the gate

I turned back wit heavy hear and smoggy head

While my stomach craved for a piece of bread

Looking here and there I caught a running bus

And the conductor pocketed the change after making a fuss

Gandhi’s soul is buried deep under the marble slab

The slab is cleaned daily with a swab

His ideals are thrown into the polluted air

And present leaders feel mischief is right and fair

@ Rajghat is a place on the bank of river Yamuna in Delhi where a memorial for MK Gandhi is built. On the black marble platform a lamp burns continuously duly protected from wind. Hare Ram is inscribed on the memorial.

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