The Taliban And The Bamiyan Buddhas Standing Vis-A-Vis (Buddhas Under The Shadow Of The Guns) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

For the first time
Heard I it in history,
For the first time
In history.

Buddhas, Buddhas
Under the shadow,
The shadow of the guns,
Guns.

For the first time,
First time in history,
In history
Heard I, heard I

And saw I, saw I Buddhas,
Buddhas
So sad,
So sad and sombre

Looking pensive and grief,
Grief-laden,
Sad and sombre
And brooding

Under the shadow,
The shadow of the gun,
The gun-toting militia men
And militants.

For the first time,
The first time
In history,
History.

But the suspense it grew,
Grew in the mind,
In the mind,
The suspense, the suspense.

The doubt,
The doubt raking me,
Raking me,
With regard to, with regard to.

How their morale,
How, how can it be,
Can it be
That they the Buddhas, the Buddhas?

What their philosophy, philosophy,
How their, their belief,
How, how
Their mentality and morality?

As for what sort of men,
Sort of men are they,
Are they in reality,
The people, people gathered around?

What their education, education,
What about their learning,
Heritage and culture,
Do they, do they not know it to respect others?

I do not understand, I do not understand
Why are they doing,
Why are they doing so,
Why do they not understand?

Are they stubborn,
Stubborn,
Are they obstinate,
Obstinate and conservative? , asked it another.

They are the Buddhas,
The Buddhas of peace,
Bamiyan Buddhas,
The Buddhas of peace, cosmic peace.

Cliff-hewn, rock-cut Buddhas
Of the Bamiyan valley,
The Bamiyan province,
Buddhas, Buddhas of peace, cosmic peace.

But on seeing them,
Seeing them coming,
Coming in hordes,
Hordes, asked, asked I

Who, who are you,
Who, who are you,
What, what do you want,
On, on seeing, seeing them?

O, what your motif,
Your motif behind,
O, why, why the air doubtful and sombre
Telling it otherwise!

O, why, why the suspense,
Suspicion lurking around,
What, what do the conspiracies plotting,
Plotting against, hatching plots!

None, none of the voices,
The voices answered,
Answered it,
Answered my question.

I just saw them,
Saw them plotting,
Plotting, hatching plots,
Plots and conspiracies.

Just like the conspirators,
The conspirators,
The villains and satanic men,
Satanic.

Why, why are the people, the people,
The rugged people gathering,
Gathering around the Buddhas,
The Buddhas of peace?

I do not know, do not know,
I do not, do not
Says it the manna,
The inner manna, I do not, do not.

But what am I seeing,
The rugged people gathered around,
Taking shelter under
With the gun-toting ones

With mortars, shells,
Axes and hammers
Coming, coming to hammer,
Hammer and break Bamiyan Buddhas.

O, what, what sort of Quixotes,
Don Quixotes are they,
Are they the lunatics, crazy people
Fighting, fighting with the statues, ancient statues!

How jocular are they,
Full of mockery and caricature,
The foolish fellows
Fighting with rock-cut, cliff-hewn Buddhas, Buddhas of peace?

None but they, they making a joke of their own,
None but they, they making a fun,
A fun of them,
The Taliban, Taliban fighters!

Should we, should we curse, curse them
They will, they will sleep no more,
No more,
They will, will no more?

Forbade it, forbade it the other,
No, no, do you not, do you not,
They are Buddhas, Buddhas,
The Buddhas of peace.

Turbaned, turbaned and in pantaloons,
Loose shirts and bearded
Looking rough and tough, hurly-burly
And stubborn and non-compromising.

What sort of men,
Sort of men,
Men, are they,
Are they?

Are they, are they not
Art lovers,
Are they, are they not
Music lovers?

O, friend, friend,
Let me, let me,
What they are, they are doing,
The Taliban, the Taliban?

Let them, let them,
What they want, want,
Let them, let them,
What they, they, another voice said it.

Are they misanthropists,
Are they, they man-haters,
Are they, they not men,
Not men? , said it the other.

One among them said,
Let me, let me hide,
Hide from seeing them
Taking guns against the Buddhas, Buddhas.

Called and cried, called and cried
The women and children,
Women and daughters of Bamiyan,
My Lord, my Lord, how to save you, save you!

How to save us, save our children and daughters,
Ourselves, ourselves from the sin,
The sin they are doing
In taking the offensive, offensive against you!

But the Lord, the Lord stood it still,
Stood it still
Forgiving, forgiving
The daughters and women, small children.

Said it not,
Said it not
Just kept it silent,
Silent in letting them take.

But the Buddhas kept mum, mum,
The Buddhas, the Buddhas
Kept, kept mum
Speechless, speechless and dumb.

And the Taliban too knew it not,
Knew it not
That the cluster bombs,
Bombs would start falling for the sin, sin they have.

But the Taliban in youth and blood,
Wrath and vengeance
Could not, could not
What did it lay, lay in humanism.

But can Buddhas, can the Buddhas be,
Buddhas be destroyed,
Destroyed, can Buddhas,
The Budhhas be?

Can, can the spirit,
The spirit of the Buddhas,
The Buddhas,
The Buddhas of peace, peace cosmic?

Peace Internal,
Peace Internal and Cosmic,
Cosmic and Psychic,
Peace Mental and Meditational.

At last came it the Voice,
The Voice of the Buddhas,
Silent Buddhas,
My children, do not be sad for me!

Let them, let them
What they have, they have ignorantly,
I am still with you, with you,
My sons and daughters of the land!

The whole sky rent with the voice,
O Taliban,
Disturb you not, disturb you not
The Buddhas, the Buddhas of peace!

Disturb you not, disturb you not,
The Buddhas, the Buddhas of peace
Lest you be not disturbed,
Disturbed, O Taliban, Taliban!

The war clouds hovered it again
And they indulged in war
Exchanging artillery and gunfire
And cluster bombs started falling and following them.