Departed Leader Poem by Satheesan Rangorath

His smile through the gap of his front teeth still lingers on
Uttering his last words 'thanks' in a colloquial accent
He went in, his eyes tired but, filled with rare tears of emotion
A roar of the masses, a comrade, has just disappeared,

Great grandpa of all, the watchful eyes of a rare breed
Just returned leaving a massive imprint on the lives of people
Touching every heart with sarcastic jokes and smile humane
He transformed himself into an icon of humanity

A great leader of the rustic masses just bade goodbye
Still wearing his thick rimmed reading glasses,
While, holding his political daily on to his chest, edited by him
An era is fading into the dark dusty corridors of history

His country slang- tinged speeches still echoes in the air
Every nook and corner he trekked, holding a red flag
Smoking a' Beedi' he fumed into hearts of peasants and workers
Identifying with their pains and happiness; he belonged to them

His coffin is moving slowly carrying hand to hand.
Both sides of the road are swamped by the weeping crowd.
The old and young, friends and foes, women and children,
All waiting for their turn for the last homage, holding a red flower

I would not wonder if he rises again from the dead, seeing the mob!
Holding and helping an old women walk, while joking with her
Comforting her under the warmth of his concern
If not, I am sure he would be making a political speech in heaven!

The smoke spreads as his body consumed by flames.
The crowd sobs in silence, their heads bowed down with sorrow.
His hands raised up in clenched fist, shouting a slogan
The crowd reeling round the pyre shaded in smoke-crows await their turn

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