It was then that the silence took charge of the sky,
many eyes of the terrain were closed, no stars in their
Kingdom, though starry the night was, the clouds
dethroned them, breaking boundaries of acts set,
and sitting on the throne started beating the Earth;
throwing thousands and thousands of sticks.
Mother Earth, pouring affection and abundant love
on her children, feeding them, providing them
air and water and solving problems of heat
and cold by fitting natural coolers and heaters,
humming a lullaby tune for sleep-care for them;
but tear away her children, their Mother's skin.
Shave her hair to sell for lakh-lakh rupees,
do Surgeries on her flesh though no ailments,
hurt her and injure her, causing unbearable pain;
she pleads with them, cries, bewails and complains,
words hers fall into dead ears of unconcern,
she laments, sheds tears and goes insane.
On turning left to write one day, seeking a soothe;
high hills she pampered in her lap as her darling,
toppled, fell down and in haste, swallowed all
that they met with- houses and inmates in hundreds,
And the Flora and fauna that looked evergreen
and Yama* well sent them to the gibbet.
The cloud flowed and flooded, drowning the
lives, which hurt the soul of the Earth, which
lie yielding romance-filled glances to him
always; the lesions, her progeny rendered her,
threw her in agony and that provoked him
for adding fats to the irrigating river.
And she, the river too started gulping the lives
of the masters of that domain, taking a deep
slumber, dreaming about their ensuing plan;
Nature though cares for us and nurtures us,
she will surely punish us if our apathy
to her reaches unfathomable depths.
Yama*- God of Death in Hindu mythology.
