SEARCHING THE TINT OF SANCTUARY

(a humble tribute to Mamoni Roysom Gosmami, author of ‘the man from chinnamasta’)

by Dr. Bipul Kumar Baruah

Who knows the hue of fear, my dear?

I feel ,the apprehension of affliction is worse than

Torment itself…

And its tint arrays from blue to black I delve.

To mope away that tint with blood you have bought

All these pigeons, ducks, buffaloes and goats.

You want to worship your Deity

For safeguard of your family and society

Without forsaking your cruelty.

You do not care because you cannot sense

The agony and turmoil they experience

While you drag them to the mound of sacrifice.

The upheaval of your heartbeats

Denotes your lack of pathos

Or perverted pleasure you hold …

Oh saboteur, why do you seek other’s red

To get rid of your blue-black fear?

The bright red alive blood of slaughtered animals

Gradually blackens,

Look at old stains scattered here and there.

Why do you blacken your colorful mind,

Even being unslaughtered?

The shadow of hidden sorrow

For immolation blackens you I know.

So, let their blood circulate inside themselves

From their hearts to brains …

Never let it drain in vain to leave some

Dead dreadful stains.

Spare those meek creatures

Keeping aside your mindless knives.

Oh so huge is this!

Order your blacksmith to create

An altar out of it.

Now look at the pigeons that sit on your shoulders

The ducks that rush to the shelters

The goats that forget the horrible drag

At the sight of green grass to graze.

And out of the buffaloes you choose one to ride

And lead them towards the farm with pride.

Look at the soothing sky and

Return illusive blue-black fear there.

Peerless earth is our sanctum

Let us search fearless decorum.