The Song of Life
written by: Indrani Chowdhury
@indrani19975906
As he saw the sleep deprived, blood-shot eyes of his comrades,
And watched their tired legs,
Almost refusing to obey to move one inch more,
He did what he does best,
He sang their tribes that spirited song,
To make them remember how far they had come along.
The best news was that they had survived.
Oh, yes! They had survived,
The indiscriminate killings,
The harsh cold weather, the slave bound life and
the bloody lootings.
And since then, they had just run and walked,
Walked, and ran, crossing miles and miles,
Like hunted animals of some kind,
Frightened and lost, praying to their heathen gods,
To help them just to survive from their fate unkind.
And had left their known territories, their loved ones’ lifeless bodies,
Scattered in the bloodied alleys near their broken huts.
He knew that now they must go on,
For life will rekindle again only if they survive this game.
And then they could again dream and plan to win back their now-conquered homeland,
To win back their much-revered ancestors’ hills and plains.
And who knows,
One day they might even be strong enough,
To conquer and annex their enemy terrains!
But all these would be possible only if their life remains!
And so, he sang that spirited song,
So that they could move on with long strides,
To climb that one last hill,
To meet life,
To embrace a new dawn.
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