The Good Samaritan Poem by Kumaara Sukeja

THE GOOD SAMARITAN
There he is: the unshakable pillar
Looks not the typecast but is, nevertheless- -
Frail in frame like all the formidable fellows
of a noble society founded
on the edifice of a
self-effacement principle.

The Silent Warrior.
Stands alone in his fight
to stem the flow of tears, helplessly,
streaking down the faces
of a forgotten God's forsaken children- -
some abandoned at birth; Others, by denial
of fair practices- -branded, as they are,
lesser mortals for their color or creed- -
strategems connived at, ruthlessly,
by feudal overlords historically triumphant.


The oppressed meekly submissive
and supplicant in their lot,
segmented by the irrepressible
manifestation of Hunger
from the satiated sections,
who are, through well-honed instincts,
domineering in conduct.

The jeering voices of oppressive classes
could be grating for the bemused liberal
but, for the brave samaritan determined
in his resolve
to lend his friendly shoulder to the needy,
is a clarion call to carry on
braving the mockery and the derision.

His indefatigable spirit
lights up many a smile
in the dark alleys where
the deprived shelter themselves, and,
are enthralled by his sincerity.
Before long, his endearing touch
creates a cascading effect of
letting a thousand flowers
bloom from the musty crevices
of the darkened walls
complexioned- -by a natural compulsion- -
out of fear-psychosis of sanctions, and
in deference to their subjugated status,
allow the discreet dusk of the night
to cleanse the grime and sweat
arising from their daily toil.

The blossoming lilies and roses
collectively, through their numbers, invoke
the God Zephyr to introduce a fresh wind
to help them sway to a new song
being aired by the chirpy voices
of the emaciated but ebullient
children prancing as ever
in the gutters of the forbidden
ramparts of the city.

Along with the strains of a fervent prayer,
wafts a gusty fragrance through
the hitherto stifling squalor- -
unnerving the under-ground
rodents- -symbolic sentinels
of the exploiting classes- -unfamiliar
with the effervescent cries of hope heard,
and which, zestfully,
spreads a wave of cheer
through the weary bosoms
waiting for deliverance since decades.

His compassionate acts are not lost
on the Chroniclers above
sifting through the narrative
of the human race's daily troll- -
It is, indeed, a rare event-
The kind that happens
Once in a century if not a millennium- -
of a good samaritan's saga
touching the chords of the hearts
of the stoic and the cynics alike, here
and in the higher spheres above...

And, from among the Celebrated Heroes- -
Worshiped by History-
and, resting in their heavenly abodes,
There could be a Smiling Gandhi,
nodding in approval,
the Herculean efforts of a dedicated individual- -
a defiant David, in many hues,
cast in his own image!


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.(C.) KUMAARA SUKEJA. AUG 2015.




AL RIGHTS RESERVED.(C.) KUMAARA SUKEJA. AUG 2015.