Befuddles me when I see him,

Is he the same commander

Or is he the wise, solitary saint?

The world may play with his identity, his tribulations

Only he could make a deal with the Devil

To fulfill our tryst with destiny.

Gumnaami may be no fraud,

Subhash had his knack for sadhus

Since he was a child and beyond.

My country may have had no

Place for him, there were already sentries and kings

I still like to ponder, is he the same? My Netaji,my Gumnaami?

Why won’t I think this way?

Taihoku says, no planes flew that day.

The shrewd Government is still at it

Commissions, come and go, no files to display.

They say his comrades threw acid on his hands

To tie up a story that selfless man conjured stands.

Gumnaami may be no fraud,

Subhash used a playful trick to escape

Once from India, and once to die therein.

Her relatives swore they met Netaji

The Government secretly eyed his family

So, I still like to ponder is he the same, My Netaji, my Gumnaami?

~Soubhik Chakrabarty,

Kolkata, India