|
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.)
|
