The Conspiracies Of History, The Intrigues Of History: A Reading Of Midnight's Children Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The conspiracies of history,
The intrigues of history,
Of politics and time,
Marked he, felt he
What it went
In the making of the nation.

The plots and trickery of politics
He felt it
When it was being hatched,
He heard it from the whispers
Of the wind, the walls,
From the motherly womb as Saleem Sinai,
The rest you can feel it yourself,
Need not explain it.

As a midnight children, he saw it all
With his Blakian heart,
Full of innocence and ignorance
The politicians doing dirty politics
From the midnight of freedom
In connivance with the historians
And the bystanders.

There were deed-writers, registrars,
Mappers and draftsmen,
Planners and rope-men,
Linemen lining, demarcating
The borders with pillars and posts,
But there were none to give toffees and lozenges
To the midnight children.

He saw the tougher freedom fighters
A few of them as they seemed to be,
The Hindustani men,
He saw the politicians busy with politics,
Hectic activity and bargaining for power
During that period of transition
Which none was aware of.