Clouds in the valley...

Facing amber skies, we wait The golden sun to fall, Tourists, tourists everywhere, Who only shout and squall   Noisy people, each of them, A shutterbug about to be, How many photos will they take, Never again to see   What was there to see, in fact Not even a beach of gold, Yet, the sunsets are ambrosial That’s what I was told   ‘The sun’s about to set behind Those silhouette hills in black,’ My driver tried to inspire me But then I asked him back   ‘Those hills, are they in Andaman? Couldn’t we go that far?’ Dilip smiled and answered back ‘No one lives there, Sir!’   ‘Its another island far away, Where the Jangils used to thrive, People hardly live there now But smugglers - and those who dive!’   The sun had turned now carmine red While I looked upon my phone, Ruttland Island was its name – The isle of the unknown   The sun set fast behind the hills, The skies glowing bright, Sc...

Here, in the citadel of silent pain We can only read - Of tales of some of the suffering souls A fraction of their immortal deed   So many sons of the motherland dead In these isles of a paradise sea Do we even know the price they paid That today we call ourselves free   The pilgrims who know flock one by one To Veer Savarakar’s lonely cell, While the hundred other Veers in the other cells Stare and cry and silent wail   I look at the locks, the tetris bricks, Guilt at our youth, our uselessness Whatever we do, will it be enough To face one martyr’s teary gaze?   If only these ochred walls could speak Could we complete a single tale? Instead, we take photos and tag the world, ‘Look, I have visited Cellular Jail!’   Hundreds of names adorn the walls From Punjab, Bengal, Madras, Bihar, There are thousands more, forgotten names Unknown soldiers, interred this far   I climb atop the Cellular – star, ...