Reading Time: 3 minutes
A ballad about love, war and the ways of the Raj, by Prof. Sanjoy, exclusively for Different Truths.
The mangoes were ripe and the summer
Hotter with political deceit. The sap was
Allergic to the whites, sticky with sweat pride
They had lost a few mosquito-bitten days ago.
The cannons had boomed with the fire of rivalry,
Muskets were shaky with greased cartridges
And the cavalry bounced with revenge:
Last night’s shooting at the British officers had to be avenged.
With the first shot the foot soldiers filed in threes
And with the ricochet Capt. Watkins shot
Like a stray bullet towards Samdabad on his steed:
The ways of the heart and war were strange.
Emotion in commotion took devious routes,
Desire fed on risks became potent and strong in the heat.
Hopping and skipping the enemy lines in between,
Watkins vaulted into the orchards and fields of Samdabad
Without warning; lance in hand he found his mistress
Swinging under a peepul tree, humming a song of lost love.
The marigolds as usual were tender with expectant desire
In the basket and a few mangoes carried the impatient appetite of love.
The clip-clopping horse in its loose front shoes
And tight saddle halted with an approving neigh.
Laced riding boots were patchy and the Mewatis in revolt,
All set to loot the battle knackered.
Watkins dismounted with the pride of John Company
And his gallantry, resolute and bold in his red coat.
Mettle of romance under the Indian sun was tanned,
Surrounded by dangerous wild life and weapons
Of uncertain enemies, leftovers of Col. Sleeman, the thugs,
Men who distinguished little between Englishmen and richer natives.
Rukshana covered half her face with her saree, looked down
And smiled, grabbed her basket of marigold and mangoes. ‘Rosa’,
Cried Capt. Watkins with abated breath and embraced her tight.
She cried with coy joy and the moments vanished in the dry air.
Like salty tears. The koel sang its song to cheer.
Affections in the heart of the Yorkshire man had twisted
And turned the name of beloved in the fervent heat.
The arduous sky shall cover all and the hard earth breed food,
Monsoon is around the corner with its swings, music and dance
Conflict vexes and piques like prickly heat, love’s bane.
Carry me away through the leaves, there’s danger.
They say the orchard has eyes and ears—and weapons.
We shall light our candle in the troubled dark.
I am the wick and you are the wax, shall end together.
You are my auspicious moon, your beams give light
In the darkness of conflict. Unite and become my sun too.
My sun and moon! Valiant in ardour and war,
We shall send out our branches of mutual affection,
Our children like blossom shall transform into fruit.
The woman struggled out of his embrace abashed
And he tried to explain her of the attack in vain.
Words didn’t matter in amour; they made no difference in bad blood.
Gestures did better than the love-laden eyes and parched lips.
The forest babblers reminded him of women in the bazaar
And he had bargained for one firmly.
The paths between trees and stubbles were labyrinths, led nowhere,
And the sky was blank. Some birds fluttered in the orchard.
He pointed towards the silver east with his sabre:
The impending English attack on foot and horses.
Raised gravel boundaries divide fields and men,
We want to unite under our banner—resolve
The contradictions in ourselves, make the mosque and temple
Fuse into our church of love, brick by brick.
He promised to come back for her and her dusty locks and skin,
To carry the mud coloured affections of Hindoostan,
On his horse; he held the spear firm as his oath,
Spurred the horse to damn the enemies of romance,
The shining helmet challenging those who had dared to revolt.
All of a sudden there was a fusillade of matchlocks, screaming
And fluttering, and the tender leaves shook;
War cries of Ya Ali rent the air and a couple of dozen turbaned men
Rushed to capture the lustful white devil on horseback.
The bullet hit him on the shoulder and he rolled down
With emotion in his heart, one foot in the stirrup,
The clasp of passion, and the horse bolted carrying him
And the risky burdens of the empire.
Darkness descended on his cloudy eyes
And the horse cut through it like lightening.
Photo from the Internet
