Love For Language
Sound denotes the tune
Tune shapes the word
Words sprout of strong feelings
Feelings have no limit, no boundary
But it is clothed by the language
Language endows with the identity
Identity confers recognition
Recognition offers self esteem
To the human beings in the society
Thus everyone has to devote time
and give all out efforts for protection
restoration and growth of one's own language.
poem by Ratnakar Rout
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Is It The Way
A Jawan deployed to curb insurgency was abducted
and later on found brutally strangulated by the insurgents
The mutilated body was seen deserted in the desolate jungle path
He was the lone earning member of a poor farmer's family
On whose income the five member family was solely dependent
The body was brought to the native village in a cavalcade
for its last rites, the mother got fainted and went in to coma
When all others in the family screamed, the septuagenarian father
looked at the deceased body closely and questioned to the gathering
utterly blank, is it the way to raise revolution
and bring a change in the present political and social system?
poem by Ratnakar Rout
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Travesty Of Fate
The middle aged maid, a graceful lady
was living in the nearby slum,
disappeared for couple of days
It was learnt that her husband had met an accident
and hospitalised unconscious in a hospital
with a brain haemorrhage
We remained in dark
as no message further was available
on the health condition of her husband
One day she appeared desolate
and started sobbing disastrously
All of us were taken aback seeing her emaciated situation
she had already shed her ornaments like a luxuriant tree
shed its leaves during winter
and was looking miserably bare
An ever smiling face used to appear
contented always in spite of tireless work
during the entire day had vanished
Since she was weeping desperately
I could not muster courage to look at her pale grim gruesome face
[...] Read more
poem by Ratnakar Rout
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Angel Of Peace
They were bought from the market
Like cattle, dogs, horses, cats
And other domesticated animals
But unlike them they were not the pets
But used like commodities
They were caged, used, exploited, and tortured brutally
And cautioned not to react but to remain mute all the time
As if they were born to serve and tolerate all oppressions
They did the same as asked for the ages
And lived the lives not better than any prisoner
In any of the erstwhile concentration camps
Raised by the dictatorial rulers
They were the slaves, the aborigines of Africa
The land of God, heaven of the primitive and undeveloped people
They were the tool of mockery and caricature
And used for ape-dancing in elite parties
And were dieing uncared, unnourished, half fed
With fatal ailments in unhygienic dungeons
Even worse than the cowsheds
And were perishing like worms and insects
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poem by Ratnakar Rout
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