Poem on Mahatma Gandhi


There’s a tale that I shall recite,

From the pages of the past we know.

It’s a thread still hung to the released kite,

Which is lost, yet alive to show.

The story begins from the phrases,

That were once sung by a trusted man.

Violence was condemned in the stages

Of the theatres playing on the motherly sand.

We won the war against the white,

With his words being the weapon of the might.

The day shone with the glory of his tributes,

But then were his mistakes which coloured the night.

Draped in the white serene,

He had blissfully kissed his soil.

He made the kite reach the cool gales,

Which soon began to boil.

He gave his blood to fight for liberty,

And liberty was indeed what he made us attain.

But people say he drew a line dishearty.

And thus, three bullets made way into his veins.

People commit mistakes,

People realise and then work on the good.

But this is a tale with unknown stakes,

The stakes upon which he stood.

Yes, people nurse upon the wounds,

They mistakenly give to others.

But maybe Gandhi wasn’t given the time to aid

The wounds he’d given to the Mother.

The phrases that sing a man’s life,

Are written with ink glorifying his succors for the right.

But the phrases youthful souls sing today,

Account the man’s wrongs in sight.

Such was the life of the Mahatma,

Who sang some thousand verses for the nation’s virtue.

But he fell for and is still condemned for the few poems

He wrote wrong; alas, that’s true.

Is a being robbed off his senses

To have ignored a man’s sacrifices?

We condemn him for one mistake he made,

And simply ignore if ever his good deeds resurfaced.

If this is how the phrases end

For a messiah with selfless deeds,

Maybe a better definition of goodness there is,

That the humanity needs.

But here, a message does resound,

A true moral for humanity thus announced.

If you commit a mistake even once in ages,

Your goodness will be hidden in lost phrases.

Shubham Ranjan Patra
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Author’s Bio

Born in the culturally celebrated state of Odisha, Subham Ranjan Patra is a sixteen-year-old novelist who sometimes ventures into poetry as well. His stories usually focus on intense themes bedecked with creative mysteries and enthralling beats of a thriller. Whereas, his poems explore the latent beauty of humanity.

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