Dust to Dust
written by: Santosh Bakaya
Men destroyed! Lives destroyed!
Tanks destroyed! Hospitals destroyed!
Families destroyed. Buildings destroyed.
People running helter-skelter in search of shelter.
But weren’t all shelters bombed out?
Dust to dust- to dust.
What a victory! What unalloyed joy!
Yell the ‘subtle slaughterers.’*
What is won? Tell me what is won.
A chunk of paradise? A trunk full of hearts?
A hamper of smiles, giggles and guffaws?
The youngster in throes of death on the battlefield
is whispering the names of his family members.
His mind remembers all, but his treacherous breath
leaves him before he can call out to all.
Death also remembers him.
There is more gore- still more -and more!
Then an encore!
Who killed him?
Whom did he kill?
Why did he kill?
He died with names on his lips.
Just names… Just names… Just names…
He carried no piece of land with him.
No slice of some abstract paradise.
Just names. Just names.
“Bin…”
The name got buried in the din of the war.
And was binned forever.
Bina, his wife died with him.
* Fyodor Dostoevsky
- Dust to Dust - April 8, 2026
- Then I Blinked - March 19, 2023
- The Soliloquy of an Octogenarian - June 2, 2022
