Martyred flame

S. V. Venugopalan
A humble candle’s flame was haunting the
darkness engulfing broader landscape
 
It was agitating the enemies of
enlightenment whose restlessness was
borne  in the hot air huffed and
puffed every now and then
 
The pencil rays of light
was enough not just to expose
 the ruthless and gruesome faces,
but to identify a way of hope, too
 in the din of deafening noises of
obscurantism.
 
Not that the candle was unaware of
 its ever melting stature.
 
Rather conscious it was of its
self-chosen task and
was a willing participant in that process.
 
Forces of hatred and venomous politics
 were hell-bent on foreclosing the
 humble glow spreading across the
darker space and were
enraged that their giant shadows were
cast on the walls by its smiling presence.
 
 Alas, the blackened wick turns smoky
 as the flame is put off by an
avenging blow of air by the  devilish mouths.
 
But, the falling candle had already lit
a million candles whose
united flame gets ready to
drive out the darkness and
torch the hatred once and forever.
 
And for the moment,
they glow, in silence,
remembering the sacrifice
of that unique, humble, unassuming
candle, thy name is, Dabholkar…..
 

Courtesy: Indian Express

 (The writer’s email: Sc.venu@gmail.com)