As You Have No Less Pity On Us Poem by Kanishka SricharanPratap

As You have no less pity on us,
Gifted T.B.

I worshipped you
In empty stomach,
Offered to hoist
Flag on your temple!

By selling the properties
As much we got
Paid to the village doctor,
But the disease increased
In its way.

The rest also sold
And carried the mother
To District Hospital.
Senior doctor prescribed
In such a manner,
My mother passed away
In middle-age!

How to take dead body?

Two hundred rupees remained,
Two nurses quarrelled,
Another snatched away
One hundred.
My father prayed a lot
To give an ambulance.
Doctor rebuked:
''Go go... no vehicle here,
Quickly lift your wife's dead body! ''

Father spread the bed-sheet
Laying the mother on that
Tied!
Her feet left uncovered,
He covered with a piece of old cloth!

Softly caressed
My head,
Taking me into his lap,
He said: ''O'my child!
Why do you cry...
Mother won't come back! ''

Carrying my mother on his shoulder
He walked on...
I followed him with a bag in hand!

How far is our village!
In the jungle
By the hill-side!

We walked ahead
Across the road
Passing thousands of people, vehicles...
So many big people!
In intervals
My father put my mother
On the road-side,
After a little rest
He carried her
Changing his shoulders!

Some took our photos
In their cell phones!
Photos of my poor father
Dana Majhi's photo,
Mother Amanga Majhi's photo
And of mine,
A motherless child's rolling tears!

Oh! merciful! !
You have no less pity on us! ''

[ Dedicated to the daughter of Dana Majhi ]


Translated from Odia by
Subash Chandra Mohapatra