Acharya My Father

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Honour

Missing father tonight-

Strange thoughts arch through the mind.

Father though no more today

perhaps, reborn growing somewhere.



To the very

Father he was born.

Grandfather, whom I had never seen.

Much earlier he was long gone.



Those days my father was a little child.

By the time, he has through his stages;

will I die to be born to him, in ages?



All of us one by one in phases-

Repeat his family as he began.

Bygone be no bygone.



Born poor good Brahman, he was dutiful.

Trifled mock, insults, and scorn.

Taught love and compassion



Forgive and forget hurts, mission.



However, never be a doormat to feel affection.

With guaranty, treasure was our intellectual capacity.

Cultivate, impart knowledge was riches sought.



"A wealth that could never deplete

Much as we gave, give." He said.

Pacifist deadpan, peace at any cost, he was not.



Anchored in win through morality, mutual respect,

Plan of action, in non-violence-freedom was his, ours.

True Congressman with law degree

in Jessore yonder year secretary

Follower of Bapuji self-made he was.

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hhickson's picture

Peace. Such a sweet inviting word. Love also inviting. Hate and war the dark opposites, but without dark there is no light and there must be those who sacrifice themselves to maintain the balance.

Hugs and Peace


HK

bishu's picture

Nostalgic !!


©bishu