I am finding myself wanting more and more to look at creative ways of self expression and one of them has been poetry. Encouraged by a friend to do more of it, here's what emerged after a three day lovely break @ Hampi with family & friends.
Events that even history has dispelled
Or of the devoted Laxmana following Rama
As he crossed these lands in search of his wife
Were cursed to become the Akka – Tangi Betta
Frozen in eternal rest, they now stand!
Who made this very land their kingdom
On sighting the hound being chased by the hare.
His bravery, his religious tolerance , love for poetry
Songs in his praise the rocks would sing!
Of prosperity that radiated in this kingdom
In its bazaars, its streets, its religious icons
Ruthlessly plundered by the Sultanate’s men
Then left to burn for months in the fire.
Even in today’s times, several centuries later
Those stories would still ring a bell
So these rocks withhold their stories, their wisdom
And continue to stand in mute witness.
Stories from Hampi
If only these rocks could speak
What stories would they choose to tell?
Of the many events they bore silent witness to Events that even history has dispelled
Would they choose to talk of brothers
Vali and Sughriva locked in a fight for lifeOr of the devoted Laxmana following Rama
As he crossed these lands in search of his wife
Or perhaps the tale would be of sisters
Who for insulting these very lands,Were cursed to become the Akka – Tangi Betta
Frozen in eternal rest, they now stand!
Maybe the folklore of the chieftains Hukka and Bukka
Is what the rocks might want to shareWho made this very land their kingdom
On sighting the hound being chased by the hare.
Or maybe history would take precedence over myths
Stories of Krishnadevaraya, the KingHis bravery, his religious tolerance , love for poetry
Songs in his praise the rocks would sing!
Would they, then, swell up with
pride
As they begin to share the many formsOf prosperity that radiated in this kingdom
In its bazaars, its streets, its religious icons
And then would they start to mourn
The fall of this prosperous, mighty empireRuthlessly plundered by the Sultanate’s men
Then left to burn for months in the fire.
Ah! Those tales of religious intolerance,
Of greed, that these rocks could tell -Even in today’s times, several centuries later
Those stories would still ring a bell
But the rocks know that history repeats
That man from his mistakes learns less and lessSo these rocks withhold their stories, their wisdom
And continue to stand in mute witness.