Delhi
(29/10/05)

Unbroken symbol of proud histories,
Unageing priestess of old mysteries
Before whose shrine the spells of Death are vain.

I am the soul of a nation,
I am the threshold of a
myriad cultures with a
myriad dreamsÉ

Through the centuries,
I have seen empires rise
and fall; changing times
pass by with legends
of bygone glory; I have
wept the regal tears of
many a vanquished race;
I have borne the splendid
tragedies of old and newÉ

I have conquered my
conquerors; I have broken
their hearts; I am the high
priestess of harmony;
On my Sanskrit robes,
are Persian flowers;
I have worn them through
thick and thinÉ

Today, I am in mourning,
again -  my hands are not
stained with henna but with
rivulets of blood; I have let
my hair down, yet again –
I weep for my kith and kinÉ

But, my Diwali lamps shall light
up the skies and my crescent moon
bid mubarak to the world;
I shall rise again from the flames –
a cross between a nightingale
and a phoenix – my feathers dyed
in a myriad cultures, I shall sing
again in a myriad tonguesÉ


Notes:

  1. The quote at the beginning of the poem is from Sarojini Naidu's (Indian poet and politician: 1879 – 1949) ÒImperial DelhiÓ. 
  2. Mubarak – Urdu for felicitations
  3. Henna – a plant, whose leaves are used to paint hands and feet, during festive occasions.
  4. Letting the hair down – In mourning, Indian women unravel their hair.
  5. Diwali – Hindu festival of light.