The Tragedy Of Errors Poem by Ravi Panamanna

In this corner
I stand cornered!
I am neatly packed.
I am finally packed!

From standing ovation
I am thrown to destitution.
From a glorious moment
I am thrown to this pavement.

The sad tale I shall relate
Hearing it, you may tell
Whom shall I retaliate?
Who will see my blight?

For a literary function
The city needed some elation.
A governmental body took the decision
To erect the bust of writers of erudition.

C V Raman Pillai included the list,
Without him, the mission was lost.
A sculptor was given the trust,
He began his long quest.

For a picture of this Indian Walter Scot,
Among the sites he made a holocaust.
At last he came victorious,
In the act, he was not capricious.

And he began his work thence,
He did really sweat for months.
The bust was ready for commission,
Not a brow raised any suspicion.

And at this busy junction
I began waiting for the inaugural function.
Till then, from the public eyes
I was hidden in a mantle piece!

The momentous hour finally arrived,
From the minister's eyes I was seized!
There was enough conjecture
That I was a different figure!

Yes, instead of C V Raman Pillai,
Dr. C V Raman truthfully greeted the public eye!
It was a tragedy of errors,
The sculptor had done this blunder!

What a tragedy!
In this corner, now I am nobody!
I was instantly ‘sacked',
I was thus hijacked.

Now, I am longing for a re-birth
But at the moment, I am hearing dirges.
By overnight, I had met disgrace,
Who will now endeavor my presence?
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
30/10/2012