Yesterday happened to be my daughter Amrita Lakshmi Kesavan’s [Lallu] birthday.
As she did not want any tangible present owing to my physical absence I wanted to present her with a poem.
Infirmities of the internet did not allow that – yesterday.
I present two poems a day later – one from the past written far better than I ever can.
It is from a film called Dhool Ka Phool [Dust’s Flower] made in 1959 by B.R. Films directed by Yash Chopra.
The late Bade Sahib – Mr B.R. Chopra, his right-hand, the late C.V.K. Shastri, and Ravi Chopra gave me the opportunity of rendering the television serial Mahabharat into Tamil with a hitherto unknown freedom while dealing with a hit product from a house with a chequered history older than me by 4 years.
I always shall feel overwhelmed by the gesture of Bade Sahib.
The poem was penned by Saahir.
The English rendering has been done by me.
[Some contextual parts of the situational lyrics have been snipped off owing to the solemnity of the occasion.]
Born of a human being
You shall remain one
Mercifully
Faiths that have
Divided humanity
Are yet to singe you
You indeed are
The symbol
Of changing times
The Maker created us all
As equals
We inhumanly ended up
Differentiating ourselves
By beliefs
Castes
Creeds
Nature gave us one earth
And we rendered it
Asunder
Into myriad nations
You shall be the force
To tear down
All man-made barriers
You shall not belong
To religions generating hatred
Your steps shall never crush
Colleagues
Siblings
Friends
Your love towards The Almighty
Shall transcend holy texts
Imbibe their true meanings
And you shall flower into
A messiah of
Harmonious peace
Those who prey
On those who pray
Those who profit
Hocking patriotism
Hawking corpses
Selling religion
Lying about lives
Dealing in decimation
Betraying nations
And
Nationhood
Such ‘honourable’ murderers
Robbers
Ensconced in palaces
Planting thorns
Not flowers
In our peaceful Eden
Shall hear their death-knell
Through your messages
Of love
Born of a human being
Dear child
You shall remain one
And here is one by poor old me.
Young lady
Yet again
Your old man
Failed you
No matter
How many excuses
I trot out
All shall be
Meaningless
Pure and simple
I am poorer
Than the penniless Humayun
Who had the sense
To open a pod of musk
Spread fragrance
To mark the birth of his
Offspring Akbar
I could not even do
Something like that
When you were born
I shall not hide
Yesterday’s gaffe
With any fig-leaf
May you live long
Amidst those who love you
And those whom you love
In my supreme contentment
I brag my loneliness
Saying
Enjoy your happiness
O World
My sad solitude
Is indeed
My solace
Bless you
Young lady
Be happy
For an eternity
