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| Kathmandu, Sunday March 23, 2003 Chaitra 09, 2059. |
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Saddam on the chessboard of
history
Yes, the colours
the last nights colours
still stay in her hair
in the creases of her eye lids
in her cute nostrils,
in the porches of her ears.
Our objective this time was to read poem on
colours. We had desired to crawl into a secret palace of our souls. We had wished to
revive the blotched walls, colour- stained wooden doors of the wine shops, of teashops,
and the crimson threshold of her house, and her face flushed from festivity. We had wanted
to rush to the emerald green grounds of the forgotten valleys of our lives.
But the Sun that flared up carried angry eyes of
a growling beast. The morning that opened brought wounds of a fresh violence. How could we
like innocent pigeons close our eyes? How could we talk merely of effulgence of rainbow
colored festivals when human blood spilled out of human skulls shone in our eyes? Colours
cried for a darker shade, cried for a response to presume the sanctuary of their meanings.
Are we Asians experienced enough in acknowledging the Ultimate Irrelevance of any
blood-drenched subjugation? Do we have in our bones a faint memory of Alexander appearing
on our doorsteps? Do we remember our Epic accounts of a vision of War as apocalyptic
bursting of millions of suns?
Colours give way to the thoughts of peace
associated with them. Hasnt the delicate relationship between colours and peace been
dislodged in the contemporary war-torn world. Thus while reading poems about the dance of
colours in hillside courtyards most of the poets started reading poems about the War. But
surprisingly most of the poets reading poems were eulogizing Saddam Hussein. Poets like
Amog Kafle, Purna Infada, Buddhi Sagar Chepain and Punya Gautam read poems concerning war
in Iraq. We all know that a very young poet Amog Kafle has been writing a Series of poems
on Saddam Hussein. Here is one of very disturbing sample from his Series entitled.
"Saddam on the Chessboard":
On the chessboard
of earths vast expanse
on the one corner lie
self -respect,
strings of sweat beads
and great warrior of the century
and on the other
huddled in a pile remain
chicken- hearted
modern monarchs
black dressed phantoms
and mentally disabled men.
Once again after fifty eight years
on geographys chessboard
a judge has been nominated..
And on finding it hard to maintain
balance,
this centurys greatest warrior
seems utterly confused.
What if like me he didnt
learn to beat a madal drum?
What if like me he didnt
learn to pluck strings of Sarangi?
At least in his own wide fields
he has learnt to live
a life of self-respect.
(Amog Kalfe, Trans. Mine)
Amazingly Amogs poem tries to see the
Butcher of Baghdad in a heroic light. Amogs response is typical response of a
South Asian young man that, I feel, Iraqi war is likely to strengthen. Similar is laymans
response in these parts of the world on seeing this war match on the
television and in the media. As on TV or newspapers Tomahawk or Cruise Missiles are being
shown in action and lauded for their precision and accuracy, the layman here seems to be
questioning American rationale for keeping and using these deadly weapons. And, what
about them?, seems to be the refrain "They can do whatever they like?:
Perhaps moonlight
died in the gloom of your burka-
Iids full Moon.
Ruksana, at this moment
what could I send except these
words?
While placing
the morsel of bread in your mouth
or reading words
of Koran, fire may drop
from the sky
and your dream
it might catch fire.
The Mosque may sink in
even before the Allahs
sacred name is uttered
and there may rise
smoke of sands from within.
The red rose you planted
in your court yard,
the abstract painting
you stuck on the wall
the one you loved
more than your life
or your colorful hanky
that you so painstakingly
embroidered, might just vanish
after April, 2003 AD.
Ruksana
Before it turn into history
the poem for you.
(Buddhi Sagar Chapain, Trans. Mine)
Little do they care that the Coalition assault
has been named Freedom Iraq or anything of the sort. In the glaring light of
Western media and inch-by-inch details of gruesome silence in Baghdad, Saddams
cruelty and senselessness seem to have been sidelined. The narrow mindedness, tribalism of
the Muslim world and brutal exploitation of men and women, especially maiming of childrens
psyche under the burden of cobwebs of Middle Ages seem to have been forgotten for ever.
Analysts here believe that Saddam Hussein is most likely to win. Even his Military defeat
would mean a political victory. In the streets you could now more frequently meet people
who proudly claim they are a Saddam Party.
In allying itself with rest of the non-war
Coalition World, the invisible walls of Muslim orthodoxy seem to have been temporarily
shattered. The coalition forces assault on the Iraq would force Muslim world to
embrace the other Allies in the coming years. It will inevitably make them open their
enclosed worlds to let waves of modernism seep into the scripture- smothered worlds.
Paradoxically thats what Bush administration seems to be ideally aspiring to aim at:
From the sky are dropping bombs
even before delicate lips
can quiver to smile a little.
In a tiny childrens brains
are intermittently bursting tragic
bombs
and up in the sky
are flying drab fragments of dreams
and on the sands of the deserts
are flowing barrels of blood.
Oil is turning into blood
and blood oil.
(Purna Infada, Trans. Mine)
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