Hawk by Daruwalla is one of those poems written in the annals of Indian poetry in English which deal with the hawk, its nature, instinct and behaviour;
a bird of prey, bringing to our memory the Tennysonian line, nature red in tooth and claw, the Blakian duality between the innocent lamb and the bloody tiger and the Wordsworthian dictum, what man has made of man?
The poem one in the line of others, The Tiger, Pied Beauty and so on, tells of the contrast and contradiction. Daruwalla, a poet of tragedy and tragic vision, he cannot let it go, as the Shelleyian wild, tameless and swift is the case study of his.
What it is dark will remain it dark unto the last, is the thing to be taken into consideration. We do not if Daruwalla has studied the poems of Ted Hughes or not, but something like that of his poetry is readily available in him.
The other thing of deliberation is this that Daruwalla as a poet is a Parsi and the Parsis like to place their dead on the Towers of Silence as for the birds of prey to circle over, perch and feed upon to cleanse the flesh.
While discussing the poem, the Divine Scheme of Things, the Plan and its Execution, the eco-balance and survival of the fittest come to the fore.
There was a time when the hunters used to think of training and using it for hunting, but now the number shave fallen miserably and these are rarely sighted, maybe it that one day these go extinct, but that is not the question here.
It is a poem of a wild bird, the hawk, swopping down and taking for a kill; of the glare of the eyes and a mind-set with the desire and dream of hunting and killing.
The ruthlessness and ferocity of it; the bestiality and brutality; the wrath and vengeance, is clear to us all, as it thrives on its vision and mission of life and it is natural that the child of it too will be the same, as we cannot nature. But the one used by the hunter to keep as a trap is the worst of all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem