Lohagarh
Grass-green, tree-green, moss-green,
Atop your black fort green,
Echoes bouncing off these stone walls green.
Are you part of the earth of your dear Raigad? Or
do you spar in heaven with Arjuna and Karna?
Do you wander these ramparts wondering what
Has become of these your people
Clambering up your grandeur, chanting
Victory to you and your dearest
Bhavani? Do you still long
For these heights, these valleys, this
Green, this stone, this leafless tree standing
Aloof in the rain? Do you
Still long for your beloved —
Sahyadri — in the rain?
For in the end Bhavani
will always be victorious.
Where are you,
Shivaji?
***
Parts of speech
Maybe a handful of nouns and
a few steadfast verbs will suffice
to tide the vagaries of life,
all the other parts of speech are
best lavished on myth: adjectives
for Achilles, adjectives for Arjuna; adverbs
for places from once upon a time far, far away;
conjunctions for digression, the introduction
of all the minor men and minor gods; prepositions
to assign all things their place under the sun:
on the back of Atlas or on the back
of four elephants on a tortoise, pronouns
for Judas to betray the Son of God;
the interjection
in the garden of Gethsemane.
For speech should be wine, speech
should be water, not a way to goad
the days to the slaughter.
Image Credit: Mayur Salgar