If I Die, They Will Not, But If A Leader… Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

If I die, they will not come to place the wreaths of flowers on me
But if a politician dies he, there will many to mourn and place,
There will be many to sing paeans to,
The body will go from place to place for a view
And the people in numbers will throng to see
The dead body of the great departed leader

But if die I, there will not be many to see and mourn my death,
There will not to be any to place the wreaths
On my dead body
And through my pension money they will buy the common cheaper wood,
Flower, incense sticks and others to burn me someday,
Which has to come, I shall not, but you will see.

I am not sure if the people of my neighbourhood will come or not
And even if they come, while returning from
Will take off the clothes and change them for a wash,
May take a bath as for a visit
Even during the evening time,
May talk about the soul becoming a spirit to children.

Only the cremators-cum-drunkards, the poor men will come
And take me away to the ghat,
The place of burning to do away with the body
And there will not remain anything,
Everything will be dead and gone away.

And at some place, some nook and corner I shall lie burning by the river-side,
The moon and the stars twinkling up above,
God seeing my dead body burning from there
And I burning slowly and sadly,
The trail of fire and smoke will blaze unto the last of my journey.

If a leader dies, there will be many to mourn his death,
Declaring a few days of national mourning, letting the flag flown at half-mast,
The radio broadcasting the demise,
But if die I, a condolence meet too may not materialize
And that day too will be utilized as a holiday for returning home,
A day of rest and free-from duties.

Had I been a footpath politician, it would have been great rather than being,
I might have a chance of flying in a helicopter
At the government cost,
People would have at least called, Mantriji amar rahe, Let the minister be immortal.