Bumla, The Border With China Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

We were at the Chinese border,
The famous McMohan Line,
Or the line of actual control.

After travelling a bone-racking
Thirty six kilometres on the hills,
Above Tawang, reaching nearly
Sixteen thousand feet above sea.

It took us two and half hours, with
Five military check-posts, to stop at,
Beginning with the Military Police,
Six kilometres off the town of Tawang.

Dalbhir Singh a Sardarji met us, at Bumla
with namaskar, showed us the borders
Marked also by lingam-like mountain
At a distance, followed by welcome tea.

In a clean constructed shed, where the Tricolour flies,
With Incredible India pictures framed of Taj Mahal,
Amritsar Golden Temple etc, also the Chinese flag,
And the Chinese wall I saw on 1987 New Year morn.

Out there at high noon, the half moon was clear
Hanging without clouds or stars to distract,
In the bright blue October sunshine sky, worried
Whether we will work for peace at the border.

We saw the Conference room where flag meet
Takes place by turn, tables laid with placard
For India and China, and the last of such meeting
Had been held just a few days ago on 1st October 2008.

My companion Jumli Ado picked up a stone
Gave me as a memento: he said, I could write
Indo-China border, date of visit and keep at home;
I started with disdain at that, but changed my mind.

Dalbir showed us two mounds of stones,
And asked us to shift some stones from one
To the other, adding that as the Chinese mound
Grows in size, so will our friendship with them.

I say the concept of Nation is an idea whose
Time for death has come: we are all a family,
As the old Tamil poet had said,
Two thousand years ago.

The thermometer outside the Indian shed
At border showed then 2 degree Celsius,
And I regret that we still have standing armies,
Ready to devour each other like demons of old.

Only a few metres before the border,
I saw a board screaming ‘From this point
You are under observation of the enemy’,
And then we enlarge the friendship mound!

What fools these mortals be! Says Puck on Moon
Looking down at us from the clear blue sky
Far above the eastern Himalayas, with pity
On every soldier, politician and vested interest.

Armament manufacturer, and army officers,
The journalists who go through orgasm to cover
The new development in any field including
Battlefront have to be countered by us.

Nothing happens unless the public shows its mind:
If Berlin Wall came down, and VietNam was sorted out,
And the Soviet Union and United States work together,
What prevents us getting along with Pak and China?