Having lately been bitten by the poetry bug, I am now a well established case of what is called 'poetricaemia'. In case you winced at my rather pathetic attempt at neologism, you might be happy to know that I too had cringed while typing it. Anyways, here is another piece of poetry for those of you who are brave enough to face it.
And while I firmly believe that poetry is an art that conveys different things to different readers and that it must be left free for a reader to interpret it for his own self, I am going to give you a very brief background to today's work, simply to explain it's context.
Recently, an acquaintance of mine shared with me a video clip of a little South Sudanese boy singing a song in his native Dinka tongue. He was singing the song for her at her request and as I cooked lunch, I listened to this kid as he sang , enthralled both by the foreign music as also by his complete lack self-consciousness. My acquaintance is Thai, from the Royal Thai Police and is currently working with the United Nations as a Peacekeeper in South Sudan. As I listened to the little boy's song, it struck me how cosmopolitan the situation was, this African boy singing to a Thai woman police officer as the song was transmitted thousands of kilometres away to a small Indian town where an ordinary Indian woman listened to him as she cooked a very Indian, very everyday (and very spicy) lunch.
Because of the Internet, we now have the capability to reach out to people all over this world, and if used in the right spirit, this technology can really bind us all into one big happy family....! C'est la vien rose? Yeah I know , I agree that this thought is too simplistic.But you can't deny the latent potential of the Internet and thanks to it, maybe one day we can all say with confidence : वसुधैवः कुटुम्बकम्।
A Black Boy Sings
A black boy sings,
Sings a Dinka song.
I quite know not
He sings of what;
Yet still he sings
His little Dinka song.
He sings for his friend
This little Dinka song.
Almond eyed, his friend's Siamese,
Smiles a lot, works for Peace;
And so for her he sings,
His little Dinka song.
And across the sky it flows
His little Dinka song;
Where I listen and nod my head,
Stirring gravy with fiery Cayenne red;
As happily he sings
His little Dinka song.
And now, his song's a Bind,
This little Dinka song.
And I don't care what you sceptics say
This World's come a little closer today;
As now for Me he sings,
His little Dinka song!
And while I firmly believe that poetry is an art that conveys different things to different readers and that it must be left free for a reader to interpret it for his own self, I am going to give you a very brief background to today's work, simply to explain it's context.
Recently, an acquaintance of mine shared with me a video clip of a little South Sudanese boy singing a song in his native Dinka tongue. He was singing the song for her at her request and as I cooked lunch, I listened to this kid as he sang , enthralled both by the foreign music as also by his complete lack self-consciousness. My acquaintance is Thai, from the Royal Thai Police and is currently working with the United Nations as a Peacekeeper in South Sudan. As I listened to the little boy's song, it struck me how cosmopolitan the situation was, this African boy singing to a Thai woman police officer as the song was transmitted thousands of kilometres away to a small Indian town where an ordinary Indian woman listened to him as she cooked a very Indian, very everyday (and very spicy) lunch.
Because of the Internet, we now have the capability to reach out to people all over this world, and if used in the right spirit, this technology can really bind us all into one big happy family....! C'est la vien rose? Yeah I know , I agree that this thought is too simplistic.But you can't deny the latent potential of the Internet and thanks to it, maybe one day we can all say with confidence : वसुधैवः कुटुम्बकम्।
A Black Boy Sings
A black boy sings,
Sings a Dinka song.
I quite know not
He sings of what;
Yet still he sings
His little Dinka song.
He sings for his friend
This little Dinka song.
Almond eyed, his friend's Siamese,
Smiles a lot, works for Peace;
And so for her he sings,
His little Dinka song.
And across the sky it flows
His little Dinka song;
Where I listen and nod my head,
Stirring gravy with fiery Cayenne red;
As happily he sings
His little Dinka song.
And now, his song's a Bind,
This little Dinka song.
And I don't care what you sceptics say
This World's come a little closer today;
As now for Me he sings,
His little Dinka song!
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