Jackal, dear

Jackal, dear

 

Born and grown-up

in an Indian rural setup

cuddled by rivers around

hugged by foliage aground

with scenic beauty in plenty

thanks to nature’s bounty

what goes off from eyes

from sunset to sunrise

with no aid then to sight

to dispel darkness by light.

from waves in the rivers

from trees and creepers

birds insects, creatures many

created then a sweet symphony

cherishes it a child latent in me

enjoying now being fear-free

that cripples a child

when it with fear, wild

hides behind grand ma’s wear

to get rid of the instilled fear

worsened by darkness and sound,

with flashes from cremation ground

emanating from jackal, the male

at times with awful sound of its wail

“Howling of a male jackal alone”

brings bad omen, as then known.

But Jackals all howl ever together

as the darkness starts to cover

giving them freedom to play

and to search in joy their prey.

Steal they pets, goat and hen

nurtured to earn with much pain

that wrecks the poor owner’s heart

to any trap, the jackal is too smart.

A pet dog running to get hold of it

never succeeds because of its wit

it snatches prey even from tiger

it is known to be very clever.

The carcasses rotted never

over the lands far and near

The breeze carries scent sweeter

The grazing pasture stayed cleaner.

As a child fort me beyond pet animal

Jackal is the first animal of the jungle

Rarely it, then I saw on open

as in bushes, they stayed hidden

being afraid of man’s cruel deed

a surprise to a child in me then indeed!

Fun, children at a fleeing jackal from sight

but afraid to listen to their howls at night.

In my class primary

on greed, thus is a story

“ A jackal elated at corpses two

with bow, hunter and boar too

first bit the string under tension

leaving rest for chewing later with fun.

The string got snapped

to death the jackal was slapped.”

“On greed to rule its own society

getting colored, it hid its identity.

it was exposed as it could not

but howled with jackals a lot.”

These vibrate in my memory

one as blue-colored jackal story.

 

Now all bushes have vanished

Excessive illumination is furnished

This breed in village does not exist

sweet mass howling are missed

Now from my heart’s core

to this breed gratitude pour

ignoring the childhood fear

to their promptness to clear

carcasses any small or big,

one or many bullocks to pig

to keep atmosphere clean

thus to keep the mother eat green.

Realy it amuses me with logic many

in favor and counter and funny

on advancement and prosperity

but my villager has lost her old identity

I miss the breed with pain and dismay\

“Lord to be merciful in His Fun play” I pray.

 

Thus with my childhood funny songs

end I adding to it the fun at our wrongs.

 

Then “The day is sunny and the day is rainy

enjoys brother jackal’s marriage ceremony”

Now “ All days are hot and no day has rain

pray brother jackal. Please appear again.

”

“Hey brother jackal look back look back

house is on fire your support we lack

Be merciful to pardon the erring man

too ungrateful, the fire on them, they fan.”

 

P K Routray

In the service Lord

 

 

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