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It Dies A Little

Discussion in 'Interesting Shares' started by jayasala42, Oct 10, 2020.

  1. jayasala42

    jayasala42 Finest Post Winner

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    A poem by Ramjeth Malani

    Sometimes in the dark of the night,
    I visit my conscience
    To see if it is still breathing,
    For it is dying a slow death
    Every day.

    When I pay for a meal in a fancy place,
    An amount which is perhaps the monthly income
    Of the guard who holds the door open
    And quickly I shrug away that thought ,
    It dies a little.

    When I buy vegetables from the vendor,
    And his son Chhotu' smilingly weighs the potatoes,
    Chhottu ,a small child,who should study in the school,
    I look the other way
    It dies a little.

    When I am decked up in a designer dress,
    A dress that cost a bomb,
    And I see a woman at the crossing,
    In tatters,trying unsuccessfully to save her dignity,
    And immediately I roll up my window
    It dies a little.

    When I buy expensive gifts for my children,
    On return,I see half clad children,
    With empty stomach and hungry eyes,
    Selling toys at red light
    I try to save my conscience by buying some,
    yet it dies a little.
    .
    When my sick maid sends her daughter to work,
    Making her bunk school,
    I know I should tell her to go back,
    But I look at the loaded sink with dirty dishes,
    I tell myself it is just for couple of days,
    It dies a little.

    When I hear about a rape,
    or murder of a child,
    I feel sad,yet a little thankful,
    that it's not my child.
    It dies a little.

    When people fight over caste,creed and religion,
    I feel hurt and helpless,
    I tell myself that my country is going to the dogs,
    I blame the corrupt politicians,
    Absolving myself of all responsibilities,
    It dies a little.

    When my city is choked,
    Breathing is dangerous in the smog ridden metropolis
    I take my car to work daily,
    Not taking metro, not trying for car pool,
    One car won't make a difference, I say
    It dies a little.

    So when in the dark of night,
    I visit my conscience,
    And find it is still breathing,
    I am surprised
    For with my own hands
    Daily,bit by bit,,I kill it, bury it.


    jayasala42
     
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  2. Thyagarajan

    Thyagarajan IL Hall of Fame

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    :hello: Madam sister @jayasala42
    Heart wrenching indeed.

    Excellent picture of the reality in modern world modern India but then it is claimed to have been plagiarised and viralled through WHATSAPP. Thanks for sharing it here. I read last week that in USA JUST 6 or 7% of the population holds 95% of the wealth and toiling masses of around 90% holds a meagre 5 to 6% of the wealth. In India to this could be the reality. The abject poverty and wide disparity in the wealth distribution is the cause for many issues in both the developed and under developed world.

    But then, I read in the net that this poem was not penned by late Jethmalani, but by Delhi-based author Rashmi Trivedi. Trivedi says this is not the first time her work has been plagiarised on social media.

    Speaking to THE WEEK, she had to say about the matter in link

    Meet the author behind viral poem falsely attributed to Ram Jethmalani

    Another version is that Just to get the poem storm the people, she herself had spread the false message and then later to claim it is her poem .

    Thanks and regards.
     
    Last edited: Oct 11, 2020
  3. joylokhi

    joylokhi Platinum IL'ite

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    What a beautiful poem on 'conscience'. Irrespective of who the author is, it so well brings out what each one of us may be guilty of at some point of time! I think we need to consciously be aware of such times, and do what is right if possible.
     
  4. jayasala42

    jayasala42 Finest Post Winner

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    Thank you Joylokhi.Irrespective of who the author is, the reality pricks. Every one of us find ourselves in similar situations very often.

    jayasala42
     
  5. jayasala42

    jayasala42 Finest Post Winner

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    Dear Shri Thyagarajan Sir,

    Thank you for the kind response. I too went through all these remarks-re remarks in the net.The poem is fine, whoever the author be.i felt as though it points to us.
    Though it is in prose style ,it touched our hearts.

    jayasala 42
     
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  6. Thyagarajan

    Thyagarajan IL Hall of Fame

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    I agree. The poem absolute delight in the meaning it conveys.
    I happen to read the poem in another context and hence I wrote about ongoing dispute about who wrote it.
    Thanks.
    Regards.
     

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