[Reader-list] poem

[tarunksaint]

All,
This may be of interest.
Cheers,
Tarun



> >To my father
> >
> >August 14th 1947. Firozepur, Punjab.
> >You-
> >eighteen years old
> >sit alone and wait
> >for news of your parents
> >When they arrive days later
> >my grandfather, grandmother, and her brother
> >offer no explanation, no report, no narrative
> >of how
> >they ended up alive in a train from Lahore, Pakistan
> >Their arrival simply becomes a fact
> >--a fact
> >that even the children--my brother and I
> >learn never to question
> >
> >November 1st 1984, Delhi
> >You wait again.
> >This time
> >with your parents, my mother, my brother, and I
> >murdering mobs parade the streets
> >announcing their arrival by rattling street lights
> >My grandfather sitting in front of the house
> >reads the newspaper, pretending oblivion
> >The neighbors demand he go inside
> >"I left once," he says,
> >"where am I to go  now?"
> >You-
> >I know, are afraid
> >But refuse to remove your turban or cut your hair--
> >as some neighbors and so-called friends suggest
> >You, who would not enter a temple
> >mock religion and even God
> >Say that you are a teacher
> >And do not wish to teach submission to fascism
> >
> >September 11, 2001--to date. Delhi, India and Carbondale, U.S.A
> >You wait there
> >And I-here
> >My brother who is visiting me
> >Finds again that wearing a turban invites the name "terrorist"
> >And, just as in 1984, he wants to be on the street
> >I wait here
> >for news of American bombs on Afghanistan
> >while the successors of Gandhi's assassins
> >rule his birthplace
> >drowning in blood the hopes of 1947
> >sowing land mines into the line your parents had crossed
> >but one they would not let cross their hearts
> >
> >Years later in 1972
> >my grandmother would visit that border again
> >pick up a handful of dirt and call it "home"
> >my brother and I would joke
> >that our grandmother created nations wherever she went
> >born in Burma she was twice a refugee
> >once in Pakistan, then India
> >
> >Children know
> >that if not this history there would be another
> >
> >But if not for
> >those who labor to make this children's belief come true
> >the only drops
> >to fall on this desolate drought-stricken earth would be blood
> >Today-
> >as I imagine you eighteen years old
> >I long to take your  hands into my grown hands
> >And walk into refugee camps where children still get born
> >
> >
> >Jyotsna Kapur
> >Assistant Professor
> >Cinema and Photography
> >Southern Illinois University
> >Carbondale, IL 62901-6610
> >ph (off):  618.453-1470
> >home: 618.529-4086
> >

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