Truth and Justice

  
Truth and Justice
 
In each of us there is a sense, innate,
Of fairness, just as each of us can sense
Another’s feelings—almost like our own.
And some of us, at least, have always sought
The truth, discarding comfort based on lies.
 
So empathy and truth and justice—each 
Have always been of worth to humankind—
And every script revered appeals to these,
With words like these in treasured texts inscribed.
And yet, injustice reigns—along with lies.
 
****** 
 
And why is this? Some say the cause is greed 
For wealth and power, each supporting each.
And surely these are drives with low regard
For kindness, truth or justice, but there are
Some other causes too, including these—
 
Our ignorance, our fear, our apathy,
And all our history of lords and kings—
The weeding out of those who dared to speak
Or act against the rule of clubs and swords, 
And now the jails of jobs—and rains of bombs.
 
****** 
 
What gain is there in life for those who seek
For truth, for those who see another’s pain,
And those who strive for equity for all?
The gain is more of persecution, pain—
And yet they try, and fail, and try again.
 
Observe the ones who speak against the lie.
Behold the ones resisting, those who die—
Behold their courage and observe their faith.
One might believe in justice after death,
Another not—yet both believe in right.
 
2024, May 14th, Tue.
Berkeley, California
 

There Still are Joys

There Still are Joys

The despots and the ogres spread their woe.
They wreck our lives and rob us of our peace.
Yet one by one, like each of us, they die,
and some are gloried still—or vilified.

I walked, the other day, upon the green
and felt the grass and earth beneath my feet.
I caught the scents of burning autumn leaves
and looking up I saw the changing sky.
 
Which tyrant, hurried by his need to win,
could quietly savor water, earth and air
as those, untroubled by such urges, could?
And yet, how many still might worship him.
 
So those, who seek their worth from inner fiends,
and those, who crave the world’s attention, vie,
while those, who suffer at their hands, perceive
there still are joys, as long as life persists.

2016 November 9th, Wed.
Brooklyn, New York, 4:27 pm
  

Dua, Insaan Ko–दुआ, इनसान को (A Prayer – to Mortals)

  
The Hindi-Urdu text below (in Devanagari script) is followed by a loose translation into English and then by a transcription into Roman.  As my Hindi and Urdu are both weak, any corrections or suggestions would be welcome.  -- Arjun

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दुआ, इनसान को
 
इस्लामियत को ढूंढ़ते हुए,
इन्सानियत को खोना मत।
 
हिन्दुत्व को गढ़ते हुए,
मानव-धर्म को तोड़ना मत।
 
यहोवा या यीशु के नाम से,
खून-खराबी करना मत।
 
पैसे या नाम का धन्धा मे,
सचाई और दिल को भूलना मत।
 
शनिवार, २५ अक्टूबर २०१४ ईस्वी
ब्रुकलिन, न्यूयॉर्क
  
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A Prayer – to Mortals
 
In search of an Islamic state,
Do not, a being’s rights, negate.
 
With Aryan yearnings in your mind,
You still have reason to be kind.
  
In the name of Yahweh or of Jesus,
With murderous evil, do not smite us.
 
To fame or fortune, while en route,
Remember still the heart – and truth.
   
2014  October 25th, Sat.
(translated November 1st, Sat.)
Brooklyn, New York

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Dua, Insaan Ko
  
Islaamiyat ko d'huun'r'hte hue,
insaaniyat ko khona mat.

Hindutva ko gar'hte hue,
maanav-dharm ko tor'na mat.
  
Yehova ya yiixu ke naam se,
khuun-kharaabi karna mat.

Paise ya naam ka dhandha me,
sacaai aur dil ko bhuulna mat.
      
xanivaar, 25 akt'ubar 2014 iisvi.
bruklin, nyu yo`rk
  

With Gentle Feet

     
With Gentle Feet
                    
There are so many things that a man can do.
And a woman can do some more.
But when we have done these things, we see
We're still as we were before.

So the one, who thinks she'll do this and that
And so become another –
To her, I say, if that's your end,
It isn't worth the bother.

******
 
So do whatever you desire
Or what you have to do,
And savor thus your duty, pleasure,
While still remaining you.

For your body and your spirit are
As waves upon the sea,
And let's observe that wavelet, that
As cloud aspires to be.

It might forsake the ocean vast
And wash upon the land,
Or warmed by sun, as vapor rise –
And yet not understand.

For even if it rises high
Above the rolling plain,
Its nature is of water and,
As water, will remain.

And though it fall as snow upon
The lofty mountain peaks,
In time enough it will return,
As water, level seeks...

And though the sights that we may see
While mounting on ambition,
May serve to feed the dreams of age,
They will not give us vision.

For vision that is not of eyes
Alone is what is needed,
And when the heart is riven, then
Its vision isn't heeded.

And when ambition blinds our soul
Or we reject our parts,
Then all around us, shattered, lie
The bodies, minds and hearts...

So let the ones, who're driven, rise.
Observe them rise and fall.
Go carefully, with gentle feet,
With love for one and all.

******
 
There are so many things that a man can do.
And a woman can do some more.
But when we have done these things, we see
We're still as we were before.

So the one, who thinks he'll do this and that
And so become another –
To him, I say, if that's your end,
It isn't worth the bother.

2013 July 28th, Sun.
Brooklyn
  

The Way It Is

The Way It Is

The world is full of madness, cruelties –
And people seem oblivious and proceed.
They pay attention to the petty things
But either can't or will not see beyond.

It may be blindness, callousness or fear,
Necessity or duties that prevent
Our seeing or our acting as we would
If eyes and conscience stayed in good repair.

We can't be saints or martyrs, every one,
But if the ones, who know the right from wrong,
Are silent, then the ones, who don't, prevail.
The sins excused become “the way it is”.

How hard it is to go against the flow,
To speak or act, when others will not join.
The emperor parades without his clothes,
And “adults” have the “sense” to smile and bow.

How many zealots have we suffered from,
Jihads, crusades and endless “wars against”,
Exterminations of the ones who're meek,
Intimidations of the ones who speak?

Competing with the zealot is the lord,
Who thrives from greed, corruption, violence,
Whose hired thugs extract the pound of flesh –
Who yet assumes, with time, the throne “divine”.

Oh pity us, this wretched human race,
That's cannibal and feeds upon itself.
Our wolves can prey at leisure on our sheep,
Who strive to see that errant ones obey.

And yet, amidst the cruel madness, see,
There still are islands left of sanity.
There's duty, love and silent sacrifice.
There's kindness left – and there's sincerity.

For every ten, who say, “That's how it is.”
There's one, who says, “That's not how it should be.”
For every one, who seeks for fame and wealth,
We've ten, who labor cheap and namelessly.

2013 May 30th, Thu.
Brooklyn