Lohagarh

Grass-green, tree-green, moss-green,
Atop your black fort green, 
Echoes bouncing off these stone walls green. 

Are you part of the earth of your dear Raigad? Or 
do you spar in heaven with Arjuna and Karna? 

Do you wander these ramparts wondering what 
Has become of these your people 

Clambering up your grandeur, chanting 
Victory to you and your dearest 

Bhavani? Do you still long 
For these heights, these valleys, this 

Green, this stone, this leafless tree standing 
Aloof in the rain? Do you 

Still long for your beloved — 
Sahyadri — in the rain? 

For in the end Bhavani 
will always be victorious.

Where are you, 
Shivaji?

***

Parts of speech

Maybe a handful of nouns and
a few steadfast verbs will suffice
to tide the vagaries of life,
all the other parts of speech are 

best lavished on myth: adjectives
for Achilles, adjectives for Arjuna; adverbs 
for places from once upon a time far, far away; 

conjunctions for digression, the introduction 
of all the minor men and minor gods; prepositions 
to assign all things their place under the sun:

on the back of Atlas or on the back 
of four elephants on a tortoise, pronouns 

for Judas to betray the Son of God; 
the interjection 
in the garden of Gethsemane.

For speech should be wine, speech 
should be water, not a way to goad 
the days to the slaughter.

Image Credit: Mayur Salgar