Sunday, May 31, 2009

On a Pedestal

I stand here, in the sun and the rain
In a pose, still forever
Not of my making
Oh my, I feel cramped
Confined and contained
In the midst of the vast expanse.

If I ever knew
That this will be me
After my passing over
I would definitely have made
A dying wish
To forget me forever.

How I wish I could move
Stretch my hands and feet
Walk a little, take a stroll
Fly away, far away
But destined I am
Eternal confinement is mine.

Come sun, come rain
Stuck to this pedestal
No umbrella to cover my bald head
Alteration of heat and cold
Mixed with the dust of the road
Heavy head, insults galore.

I who washed myself
Every morning and evening
Stand here day after day
Bird shit on my head, mixed with the slime
Dripping down my nose
O'er my mouth through my soul.

Oh, I don't abhor the birds
For ignorant are they
Only happy that they have found a perch
To take a break from their flight
And rest their weary wings
For the journey ahead.

Sometimes out of this tedium
Comes a change
When people start looking up at me
Suddenly on a blue moon day
They wash me, polish me
And make me shine till it bothers.

The next day come hoards of people
Dressed in shimmering white
Gold adorning their necks
Besides the stones on their fingers
They bring roses, smelling divine
And garland me over and over.

I know this day from past experience
This euphoria, this love
This show, this pageantry
The sudden swing of mood
The passion of the crowd
Is ephemeral, only for a day.

I hope that through their euphoria
They will see this soul
Contained and confined
Wanting to fly
Away from their show and pageantry
Lies and lies.

The next day dawns as any other
The flowers start to wither
And the scent fades away
So, does my spirit
For I know what's in store
Till another day
This eternal confinement, bird shit and slime.

(Thoughts when I see a freedom fighters statue washed and garlanded by people who profess to love, admire and follow them)

1 comment:

Kam said...

Ah, This is a telecast through text. I found myself dipped in this thought for a while.

The thought of a patriot is portrayed in the second stanza. No wonder if he wishes so.