Each time Sleep takes my hand;
It douses me forcibly in the very same dream.
Thrashing around and flailing my limbs;
Unable to escape I am.
Planting my feet firmly
Upon the marshy river-bank;
I gaze up at the golden Sun.
Oh, but what is this I see?
The Sun smiles down not at me;
For it has left the morning sky.
Where did you go, O flaming orb?
Leave me not;
For, in your absence;
I sink deep into the mud.
“Help!” I yell;
“Why should I?”
Replies a voice;
Saturated with rage.
Pushed head-first into the flowing waters
By a pair of arms;
“Please, no!” I cry;
Beseeching the unknown one.
“I will aid you only when
Your bloodied body is cleaned.”
The unseen voice speaks.
Shocked, I stare at the serpentine stream;
Only to find streaks of red
Being washed away from me.
“Will my purification
Continue forever,
O Unnamed Castigator?”
“Yes, it shall;
For your sin is greater than any other.”
***
Waking with a start;
Panting and sweating;
I depart from the realm of dreams;
To reality I return.
A nightmare I witness now;
One that is real and true.
Ah, if it had been but a dream;
I could have cast it off;
And let it fly away with the wind.
“Oh, help me, I beg you!”
The man pleaded;
Crouched on the ground;
Failing to extract his chariot wheel.
“Have you forgotten, O warrior:
That I happen to be a king?
Pulling up a wheel out of the mud;
Does such an action befit me?”
Smirked I;
As I lazily watched him try.
“Please!” The man begged;
His eyes hurt and red.
Turning away, I said;
“Why, you do it, O mighty one;
You, of all people, easily can.
Son of a lowly charioteer;
What good are you;
If you are inept;
At your own trade?”
“Will you not help me;
O charioteer of mine?
Are you not my precious comrade;
My partner, my trusted guide?”
He entreated for a third time.
“Know your place, fool!
No ally of yours am I!”
My tone unconcerned and cool.
That humiliated face of his;
Was the final expression
The man threw at me;
Before his head left his torso;
Due to the efforts of two cowardly men.
***
Each time Sleep takes my hand;
It douses me forcibly in the very same dream.
“Are you the golden Sun;
The one that vanished;
From the sky?
O magnanimous Karna;
Forgive me not;
Do promise me that!”
“Oh, but how could I do so;
Great Monarch Shalya?
For I refuse none; turn nobody away.
This humble black Sun;
Who stands before the king;
Hereby frees you;
Of your sin;
For the light-less Moon you are;
He who caused an eclipse.”
***
~ Dibyasree Nandy
Kolkata, India