The poem in this post is one of the earliest poems I've written, that you can categorize under "poems" at all... Hehehe.. I wrote it while sitting in the back of a sanskrit class in my class 12... The poem follows the thought that "a terrorist doesn't necessarily take up terrorism as a career" and is sometimes pushed into it due to various reasons. Since I had just begun to write poems, the flow and the meter of the poem is a bit stiff. Try not to take my case over it. Hehehe...
After all these years though, I have no recollection of why I chose to write a poem about a gun. The AK-47, as we know, was invented in 1947 by a man called Mikhail Kalashnikov, and hence it is sometimes referred to as
THE KALASHNIKOV
Born In The Vale Of Heaven On The Earth
Youngest In My Family, Dearest Since Birth
Born In The Refugee Camp, Hidden Even From The Sun
Unknowingly Hearing The Kalashnikov, The Life-Saving Gun.
I Grew Up Under The Flying Bullets, Zooming Right Above My Head
I Didn’t Know Why It Was Then, But The Ground Was Wet And Red
One Day All My Toys Shattered, And I Was Made To Run
Away From The Kalashnikov, The Life-Threatening Gun.
When I Was Ten, My Father Was Shot Right Before My Eyes
I Saw Death Face-To-Face; I Saw How A Human Dies
And Then I Knew, The Sounds Which I, Till Now Had Thought Were Fun,
Came From The Kalashnikov, The Life-Ending Gun.
At Fourteen, I Saw My Brothers Die, Shot At Just Like Dad
And Then I Saw The Killers, A Sight Which Drove Me Mad
Determined To Take Revenge, All Caution Did I Abandon
And Picked Up The Kalashnikov, My Life-Taking Gun.
Its finally a welcome change to post something that pertains to an emotion other than love, but I dont know if the poem really addresses other emotions in a way which really conveys them. Tell me what you think.
Love-n-Luck,
Av
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