Margins

A felt-need to banish the margins reminds us of Mahatma Gandhi’s vision on his 151st birth anniversary. Here is an evocative and soul-stirring poem, by Mitali, exclusively for Different Truths.

A cloud that drifted in the sky, paused,
wafted close to the boundary line and sighed:

What is it with mankind, that they divide?
See the boundary line that rips drips blood —

See that child, what is she? Poor or rich?
Yet a hurricane or flood can level them all clean.

What is her caste? What is her faith?
Strange, they all have the same flesh and blood!

Why do they have the need to classify?
They give so many names and then they fight.

Snuffing out lives with violence and hate.
Why do they think they are so great?

They cannot even get it right.
Intelligence is a privilege.

To be born, is a miracle,
To live, to breath, a wonder.

They could just revel in so much —

To see sunrises beyond my times
To dance in the rain which ends my life
To drown in the colours of sunset
To feel the wind blow leaves, dust and even me…

Then why divide? Why fight?
Why can’t they, like the sky, unite?

Photo from the Internet

Feature picture from Pickpik.com