Frank Keillor photo
By
Shyamal Mukhopadhay
Ballad Of The Homeless
Unreckoned multitude uprooted
from their soil
for an asylum seeking safe shelter
devastated in turmoil.
crossed swamp, sand dune, sometimes
deep wild jungle
negotiated rugged terrain at stretch
that they trumble:
elliptical destiny unknown destination
fear of externment all where,
ravaged humanity in quest of a small earth
to settle at any corner:
Tagged refugee evacuated at border
with brutal force
without food no water-an awful
human concourse.
Amidst threat of persecution looming
survival fear
fascist lunacy masquerading genocide
everywhere,
imperiled populace like nomads forced
to flee in despair
migrating to hostile land to save
from slaughter.
why should one desert one’s
place of origin?
history has no answer – what’s
their sin
detached kids disowned parents
searching aimlessly
sick and old tearfully wishing
if someone care hopefully;
Right to life transgressed several times
written in history
from Volga to ganga the human sojourn
to find new territory.
Blooded island Marichjhapi is now deserted . Sir, like your poetry several thousands people, who left Dandakaranya for Marichjhnapi , deep inside Sunderbans, to live in huts made by themselves raising fences of bamboo with roofs of grass in an , illegal , displayed colony , are no longer there. The great communist chief minister of Bengal Jyoti Basu comments...Ashes of the burnt refugee colony of Marichjhnapi will get completely washed off by the next rain. Thankingng...for your utterance...