Poem: The Leader

They say inspire us, will you hear them?
Will you travel with the wind and the moon?
Where dreams are high as the minarets
As the sky opens up where the eagles fly
Near the old ruins, where rivers flow

Help us and we will lend you all you need
Let that spirit of ours be yours for a change
Feel how is to live with days and nights
As we extend, as we move, for oasis unknown

As our hearts filled with pride, in broken light
From the promise of youth to the wisdom of time
Remain where you are, where nothing will change
If we are the nation, then where will you find
Us, near you or far apart in deserts remains
Feel that pulse, as the clock ticks away
In those hours, in that distance, in that silence

Will we ever hear words, – those words of comfort
Of change from you, near you we remain
So far apart, as our souls collide, in fury
All we have is ourselves, these days and nights
We are still humans, the last of the fire
There you will find us, perhaps in distant time

The screams are all gone, only the empty looks
As the rivers run dry, as our fate collides
Will you return to us what belongs to us?
The promise of the pride and the light to lit
The old caravans of light with the moon!

Kashkin

1 Comment

Filed under Democracy, poetry, Politics

One response to “Poem: The Leader

  1. Gorki

    Hero worship is a special characteristic of the sub-continental psyche.

    Recently the much admired CM of the Indian state of Andhra Pradesh died in a helicopter crash and till date more than 65 of his followers have committed suicide in apparent grief.

    Tagore once wrote a short story called the Old man’s\leader’s Ghost (Kartar Bhut.)
    (I think it was meant to be an allegory about Gandhiji and his followers) but can be applied broadly to other situations\leaders.

    The story goes something like this: Once upon a time a much loved and admired leader of an imaginary country was about to die of old age. His followers are grief stricken and loudly appeal to him to lead them even after his death as they cannot imagine living without his hand guiding them.
    He agrees to lead them with his ghostly presence.
    However after he dies, his countrymen are miserable because his ghost requires rituals and constraints on everyday behavior and are far removed from the world around them.
    In desperation, they beg the ghost of the leader to leave them alone, only to be told by him that he was never real but existed only as a figment of their collective imagination!!

    Regards.