Secerned Lower Races In High Aura
Far away from my vague pride
A little ahead of my imaginary vision
I found a posy of people on earth
Got secluded and subsided from the growing world.
A concourse of hoi- polloi had made their homes there
No doubt, who too were secluded from the modern epoch
Just like many rotten fruits had fallen on the earth
From the trees, just to make the earth a little more heavier.
Their appearances possessed the chasteness of an autumn leaf
Their gestures sliding upon the static beauty of white lilies
Their motion had the serene move of a tide fall
Their aura had the fragrance of the soil got wet after rain.
They too are the humans but never got any respect
They too got talents but never got the chance to get it polished
They too urge to tell but always got suppressed
Even they are God's creations but poverty separated them from us.
I saw them dying of starvation but still smiling in their last breaths
I saw them crying over others' griefs but not shedding a tear on their own
I heard them advising others for a better path but remaining baffled to make their own
I found them fighting from God for their own fate but still worshiping them in their morning hymns.
I saw their gloomy dusks in every break of the day
I saw them as completely drenched in the rain of poverty
I saw their dawns with a bowl in their hands and their dusks counting pennies
They are lost in the modern crowd of the technically skilled people.
They have enough space to breathe, enough blood in their veins
They have enough love to shower, enough people to share their feelings
But they are devoid of every basic thing to live a better life
Their heart still waters to taste the fruit of a normal living.
They neither need sympathy or fame nor they need love anymore
They just clamor for enough food to eat, enough water to drink
They just need enough money to make their ruined lands a better home to live
But the world is ignoring their hue and cry, crushing them under its feet.
They are no poor, for they are rich at hearts to love life and people
They are no being ignored, for they have their own eye to look upon them
They are no pitiful, for they have their inner power to survive worst of conditions
They are no useless, for they are just used less and haven't exposed their skills yet.
Let me scream my heart out to those people of honesty
Not to wait for their fate rather embed their lines upon their hands
And stand upon the pinnacles with their own identities
For God resides in him who knows his own value as a gem.
Let those people of honor take my voice in their ears
That no matter if they have got secerned in God's eyes
They still can become an avant- garde in their own ways
For even dust never spreads over those graves, of which people had outlived their lives.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
To my conscience, I enjoyed the family trip. But rather enjoying the serenity in the temples I more got carried away by the condition of that place.
And it was the inspiration which made me to write this long thoughtful poem.
Yeah! It may not contain the literary stuff required in a poem. But it wholly contains my forgathered inner feelings for that place and their people.
Comments about this poem (Secerned Lower Races In High Aura by Rakshita Gupta )
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