GEETHANJALI DILIP

Medals

The November night made him even more blind,
It was better that way when truth is hard to find,
His eyes now spilling blood the two holes of his weapon to wind,
Darting into a pair of enemy eyes of the humankind,

Only he couldn't care less friend or foe,
Out there in a field a line seems to say much more,
Of borders, realms, rights, wrongs sea and shore,
His spirit and faith left his shell long ago.

For what could a man do with might that pumped in his veins?
All he carried home were nightmares and bloody stains,
That no water or reasoning could wash off through bullet rains,
To embellish his garb of a brave soldier few stars as remains.

Now love was a whisper he let go with his cigarette smoke,
Where everything is fair seen from trenches and skies, rage to stoke,
As men fell like a pack of cards reeking of death an image to invoke,
Whatever was left of a heart puffed with courage now fragmented and broke,

Out of a habit he stood straight having run the grind in dignity,
Controlled by a pack of wolves that drilled into him integrity,
Where one eye was right and the other wrong justifying a self-made verity,
And a motherland the stake alienating her children called humanity.

So, one more scar to add to the tattoos of his valiant being,
This war veteran tosses and turns through the night still seeing,
Distorted faces mirroring pain of limbs blasted in pain dying,
While angels watch over him only, they are missiles still hovering.

Guilt ridden he breaks into a cold sweat,
In this lifetime million times death he has met,
How many wives has he widowed and children orphaned, oh the debt,
How could he ever undo what he did his soul does fret.

Yet it is all good for it is part of a jigsaw puzzle,
He did what best he could he thought his rum a guzzle,
Soothing his burning hollowness, his breath smoke from a nozzle,
And on the mantelpiece, all his medals still dazzle. 

When The War Never Ends

You shut your eyes to all the bloodshed,
Your ears deafened to the horrors of death remain muffled,
Your head swarms with the pain you feel of war victims,
Swishing around like a cobra’s tail waiting to attack,
Your sleep, your senses, your judgement, your reason,

You don’t know which side to take as the idiot box wags its tongue endlessly,
You see orphaned children standing there derelict and lost,
In the midst of the rubble of megalomaniac decisions,
Wailing away clinging to the only soft toy they can hang onto,

You feel shackled and you cannot move, and retaliate,
Because there will only be more war,
You see a rain of pure white bleeding doves come down a crashing,
Spluttering in agony red feathers to leave you quills to write poems,

You don’t know how the story started and whose head fell first,
As you peep from the icy trenches, slushy with old snow,
You keep aiming at an unknown enemy lurking in the dark,

As ballistic thoughts fly around from every head you don’t even know,
You are in the middle of a tornado of unreasonably empty arguments,
As oceans surge, mountains stand indifferent to raging fires,
Deserts drown their mirages and the countryside wears a poker face,

Day and night drift past like alienated siblings,
While the cuckoo sings its lonely song to a smoke-filled sky,
Where clouds resonate « When the war never ends, all you do is shut your eyes to make it go away ».

Conflagration 

Night the runway bride is still crouched in fear,

She is wary of birthing children who would be wasted in battles of every kind,
Her spouse is a warrior of truth and righteousness riding the chariot of light!

Her elaborate wedding dress of a cosmic blue tussar silk, heavy around her slender waist of invisible gravity,
The girdle belt of a million stars hurts, 
And so do her ornaments, the wondrous planets shimmering in the orbit of her ears, the galactic void!

Her veil a mere façade that covers her anxiety,
Kohl running down her cheeks like the tarnished moon,
Night always falls you know! 

I watch her through my window with heavy lids,
My slumber crumbles like day because day always breaks you know!

O light of the East! 
Pilot my eyes towards your amber skies,
Aflame with the gentle saffron of seasoned and scripted enlightenment,
Passed on through the ages where live and let live reigned supreme!

When eyes discern the straight rays of that mighty star,
Shining and giving life with equanimity to all the reddened lands,
The blanched snow-clad ones too,
Blue with clear cloudless winter skies,
Pierce my eyes to know that even tears are a blessing,
Especially when my eastern horizon is not burning with hatred and enemies, now darkened with the smoke of missiles!

When I take a deep breath in this clear and crisp morning air,
I still choke as my heart pounds in agony,
Where the same morning burns differently with the conflagration of war, 

An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,
As an exodus of cadavers lays in the midst of the rubble,
And brethren and kin don’t recognise each other anymore,
Although they too were the offsprings of the brave ones in history,
When everything they heard time and again is fair in love and war!

GEETHANJALI DILIP: Professor of French heading Zone Francofone, Salem, Tamil Nadu, India, and poet by passion, Geethanjali Dilip’s five published solo anthologies include, “Geethatmaa – Song of the Soul”, “Hansa Geetham- Song of the Celestial Swan”, “Poetry Voice – Geeth Dhvani”, “Soul Riff– Atmatarang” and “Rosée– The Dew Drop” with good reviews. Recipient of “The Reuel International Award for Poetry”, awardee in the category of commendable mention for her poem at “The Great Indian Poetry Contest”, awardee in “recognition of exhibiting literary brilliance par global standards”, from the Gujarat Sahitya Academy, Indian Women’s Achievers Award, Asian Literary Society, she curates Yercaud Poetry Festival since 2018, strongly believing that poetry connects the world.