Life Imprisoned Poem by Dr. Yogesh Sharma

On both sides the desert lies,
Vast stretches of sand flys.
That shroud the moor and sky,
Through the desert road runs by,
Too many towered cities high,
Here and there people go,
Nazim cries in voice high and low.
Veiled in a ghetto below,
Lays lass with eyes glow.

II
Dates, eucalyptus, palm quiver,
Dusty and hot winds raising fever,
Man folk chatter without any manner,
Writhing with pain under the hot towers,
Cry for a space in cool bowers
And the cruel city empowers,
The rogues to chain and torture,
The beautiful veiled lass in tears,
Tears and tears but no sympathy ever.

III
In the towers women in veil,
Moving with heavy trail,
Sad and disheveled sail,
If recently freed from jail.
But no one has seen her face frail,
Or exchanging her happy mail,
Only fellow sisters and animals hail,
Among the hardened bearded males,
Heard an elegy sad and sail.

IV
Inside she works night and day,
A dark world in colors grey,
She was told as Allah say,
Forbidden to breathe free and gay,
Only to produce children and stay,
Unknown of the curse wormy,
Covered from top to bottom steadily,
Reading the book sadly and holy,
Chanted loudly, slowly and reputedly.

V
Sometimes group of traders glad,
A procession of ulemas glad,
Skull cap, knee salwar and shirt long clad,
Sometimes a herd of camels sad,
Outlawed to music and young cupids wed,
She has no young suitor glowed,
To make love with his iron shield,
Is it a life or curse she cried?
I am sick of this black shroud.

VI
A hajji came surrounded by faithfuls,
The sun was dazzling without lull,
That sparkled in the sand dull,
The apron white glittered full,
Young face and brow glow in sunlight still,
Head was clear of all the curls,
He was flashing in the sky purple,
Faith was ready to break and hurl.

VII
She threw the veil and left the room,
In quick paces jumped the gloom,
Unaware of her coming doom,
She saw his face bright and plume,
Faithfuls around were straining,
Leaves and plants became pale and waning,
Birds and animals in the rest complaining,
Low and heavy clouds raining,
And words in the throats were draining.

VIII
Down she came out on the road fast,
Over her face grim drops afloat,
Like a Hindu saint on her sad lot,
Dropping tears in his holy pot,
Running robbed in pale and white,
Madly rushed left and right,
Faithfuls heard her song last,
Lay beheaded, lifeless along blood hot
Under the sun left by mad might.




XI
Left dead and dry under the sun,
All came out to know her name,
Died the mirth of world fame,
All and sundry cried and ram,
She has a beautiful and dear frame,
God in His heaven bless this dame,
Poor girl was she died of faith human.
Away on a wall, calling a bearded Nazim,
Failed and ignorant about the girl’s doom.

BY
DR. YOGESH SHARMA