Vol. 4, Issue 5 May 2012
 
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Fiction & Poetry


 

Poetry

The Prime Minister
Published :1 December 2011
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ECHOSTREAM
The Prime Minister’s throat is blue.
The sea has been churned

Putting his hand in the hearths
He has come to realize any fire is too cold
For him

Paradoxes override expressions of anxiety.

He has the generosity of silence
In watching the Himalayas melt

The icy wind wouldn’t so much
As give him a warm hug

Taking a leaf from the wind
He has learnt to whistle all to himself
Blind

To the woes of his toes walking miles
On piles of dry blades of paddy

In the Prime Minister is the triumph
Of the bird who himself does not eat

But watches the other one take tiny pecks


Rabindra K Swain’s poem takes up a protagonist, and a dilemma, that has long consumed Indian public discourse—the question of how to understand the prime minister, poised tragically between personal integrity and a puzzling, provocative impassivity in the face of disorder and caprice. Swain refracts the prime minister’s predicament through the prism of mythology, seeing him as a solitary, ambiguous, inscrutable Shiva-like figure who must drink a bitter poison so that all those around him, whether devas or asuras, can thrive. The poem’s concluding image, of the bird that derives pleasure not from eating but from watching another bird eat, is an ironic recasting of a similar image from the Mundaka Upanishad.



Rabindra K Swain has authored four books of poems, including Susurrus in the Skull. His work has appeared in Times Literary Supplement, Critical Quarterly, Wasafiri, The Kenyon Review, The Literary Review, World Literature Today and Ariel.
 
 

Readers' Comments

Total Comments 4

n
9 December 2011
09:40 PM
from a bird's eye view, the poem puts one in mind of the migratory 'Bluethroat' luscinia svecica.
it happens to sport a very literal blue bib...
 

Samir Dash
4 December 2011
07:38 AM
Mater of "Paradoxes" overriding the "expressions of anxiety" ! Great work Rabi bhai!
 

Manu Dash
3 December 2011
05:10 PM
A wonderful poem indeed.Congrtulations.
 

kedar mishra
2 December 2011
11:29 PM
A perfect poem, a penetrating satire, a master work.
 
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