Col Gaddafi by Madathil Rajendran Nair SignUp
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Theme: Obituary Share This Page
Col Gaddafi
by Madathil Rajendran Nair
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Muammar, 
You were a violent passion
Long ago in my Bombay days
When we jostled with crowds
Singing praise for Nasser, Arafat and you
We felt we shared
A common vision
A shapeless glorious morn

It didn’t matter if our stomachs burnt
It didn’t matter if the skies poured
As long as our young blood roared
We headed in swarming hordes
To meetings held on city roads
To cheer and clap leaders of the Left
The Middle-East then beckoned our hearts

We held your pictures close to chest
A guard of honour by armed cadets
Men whose muscles spoke your might
With uniformed girls in perfect file
Saluting their leader heads held high
And blue eyes filled with gleaming steel

Muammar,
You were a violent passion
A spinning electric storm
Powered by your hatred for colonists
You made your people dream
Feverishly in fits
Like they never had done
As you strode the land
A colossus in triumphant march
Building ambitious projects
Oft challenging the West
Thrilling your socialist friends

But you never knew
The masses dreamt too much
Then your revolution turned ruthless
Maverick without reason
Intolerant of dissent
Recklessly extravagant
Megalomaniac decadent

You never imagined
Their dreams were imbued
With seeds
Of a distant Arab Spring
That spelt your doom
In an uprising
They no more needed
A leader who donned
Atrocious attire at every whim
Like his myriad million moods

Till at last the fire of their fury
Fueled by your detractors globally
Burnt your mighty fortresses away
And drove you to the wilderness of Sirte
Close to where you first saw the light of day

Till they pulled you out of a pipe
Mauled and hauled you along the streets
In public view
A bullet then sufficed
Without regrets
To put an end to history
Glorious revolution gone awry

Muammar,
How much we wish
It hadn’t happened that way
So that the sands and winds of Sirte
Could ever roar
To wanderers of the desert:
“And here lies our Muammar,
The King of Kings, Ozymandias-like,
Who taught the Libyans to dream;
Look on his works, ye mighty and despair”
Oh, that was not to be
Stark so is human tragedy.

(On October 20, 2012,  the world would go one year ahead without Col. Gaddafi.)


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October 04, 2012
More By: Madathil Rajendran Nair
Views: 1436      Comments: 5

Comments on this Poem

Comment Nair, a very good poem. Vocabulary are very strong but as we know Col Gaddafi as a hero from our childhood and now his end is very fresh in our mind, it is clearly understood.

Write more and more, best wishes. Vijayan

Vijayan
10/09/2012 00:39 AM

Comment Now I am knowing about a new Mr.M R Nair. Keep the fire.

Ramadas
10/08/2012 12:03 PM

Comment Yes, Nair your poem is a 'real break from the routine' as Rian John says.

I have shared this poem in the 'for rhyme, for verse' column of the FB.

Siva
10/07/2012 10:35 AM

Comment Thanks Mr. Rian John. Perhaps we had jostled each other then at those Bombay rallies! The world is too small.

Madathil Rajendran Nair
10/07/2012 09:19 AM

Comment Kudos Mr. Nair for showing courage to pay tribute to the most despised, maligned and probably misunderstood man of recent times. I can understand your nostalgia for the good old days in Bombay. I also used to attend those BLITZ National Forum rallies at Kala Goda. Nasser, Gaddafi and Arafat were true heroes to us then. Your poem is a real break from the routine. Well done.

Rian John
10/07/2012 07:22 AM




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