The Lad Krishna Poem by PARTHA SARATHI PAUL

Excited feet, instructed feet
tread from the venue to the venue
travelling through a public street.
Patriotic songs and catchy slogans
on independence day parade
cast an euphoric spell on the people
and recall the long-fought struggle.
The drum-beats and rehearsed symphony,
the hoisted fluttering flags atop the masts
surge the feeling of freedom through the masses
and end in the given-away tantalizing candies.
Indeed, we need an especial day
as a token or a witness of a blood-stained epoch
to steep ourselves in the warm revelry!
Royal noose and ruthless rifles and exiled land
were fed on lives and sighs and deep grieves
just for the one and yearly fabulous grandeur?
I better learn from that Wayfarer-lad
who muses and meditates and ponders
with a goodwill of an Angel who wanders
as a Santa clause from one place to others;
a harbinger of bountiful hopes and joys
with oaths and pledges for an undaunted voyage
and love for the land without clamorous noise.
Let me remember the day everyday
the Goddess was freed from the foreign fetters,
so many feuds and many a fiery fray
with meaningful words and fruitful works
and holy service morning, noon and night
amidst the new-moon or full-moon light.