Ravi Prakash Sharma
The day was bright,
the breeze was cool.
There belts were tight,
and there stocks all full.
With hopes high,
and lust of discovery in there eyes,
They left their homes,
they left their wives.
They left their kids
and, in a sense,
they left their lives.
They ventured in the Indian Ocean,
The ocean their own,
Indian in every aspect
and yet so unknown.
The crew consisted of men-
men so dear,
who vowed to accompany each other,
till their end were near.
Early days were good,
Early days were bright,
They spent their time cheerfully,
forgetting the worries of their lives.
Slowly and slowly, as time passed (in that watery desert)
the ocean changed it's colour,
first brown, then blue and,
later might be some other.
With rising of the sea,
there sand of vices piled.
With rising of the sea,
there thoughts grew wild.
Meetings took place,
and finally, a rebellion was staged.
With the Advent of darkness on the ship,
the devil evoked,
from his induced sleep.
He felt weak,
he felt hungry.
So, lured by the smell of hatred and disgrace,
the devil jumped towards their place.
Sitting on their backs,
He taught them politics,
he taught them to kill.
And in this cunning way,
made them dance on his will.
According to the script, they performed their part.
They fought and fought and fought.......
They fought for supremacy,
they fought for control,
they fought for the ship,
and they fought for other's soul.
They forgot their vows,
they forgot their kins.
They forgot their values and
they committed sin.
They killed each other,
they split brother's blood.
They coloured the ocean red,
Gave the devil something to drink
and tears of joy were shed-
By our own devil,
who, satisfied by the climax of his play,
drank some champagne of victory,
and again left for his Heavenly place.
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