Touching Mangos

In the Mango Trees, untouchable fruits languish

In the full Sun branches bear out of its seasons

Thick limbs bow, fall low, touching among those gathered

Shed hungry tears, that endless seek the restless ground

Would the fog descend and show the veils that hide

The untrue heart, the wanton spirit that assumes

The power to destroy that which it could never create

Life is the richest pearl, and here devoured by lowest beasts.

It chokes air from the lips, and the power of grief

Stays within, coiled like a deadly viper sting

In this land of ancient love, consumed by petty thoughts

That yet control so much, and castes like the worm’s way

Weaken the bond of human to human…

In the Mango trees, undisturbed by the sun and wind

Unblinking eyes regard the stillness of the living world

To behold the essence of breath…the bearer of an unchanged past

and a bitter seed that we must all taste, as we are

to deeply know the sweetness of  tomorrow;

In the Mango Trees, untouchable fruits languish.

Author’s Note

In India and Pakistan, rape of young women has reached alarming and epidemic proportions. These attacks often committed by groups of men have caused deaths and emotional suffering among victims and families, and an erosion of vital human rights of women in both countries. In one recent attack, two young women were found hanged  in a Mango tree. In the caste system they were regarded as untouchables.  It is the hope of this writing that awareness and opposition to these conditions will spread and cause change. The women of these nations have raised voice and outrage and the rest of the world should follow and add its weight, for as long as justice and dignity are denied to these women, it is denied to all.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2645231/Teen-Indian-girls-raped-murdered-left-hanging-mango-tree-pictured.html
 

Amanat

when air holds dear treasure

smoke climbs into ancient's heavens

where today we see
much deeper into miracles of existence,
we of our small round world

When air is the last place we see

precious life, in residues of hopes,

in dreams of luxuries, in unspent love;

through heavy hearts and watered eyes

lifted to memory, and rich skies, so poor

are we, to stand and see – a brutal  taking of beauty.

Amanat they now say, only a few days

from a time when the treasure smiled

felt the touch of heavy air, busy air

street airs, breath of those come near with love

breath of those come near…without welcome

When love was easy and violence crept

while a nation so oddly slept, mindless

accepting; the unlucky caste(--) now

revealed in the way we see a worthless thing(--)

a treasure- Amanat of clouds, Amanat

of grieving, Amanat of the hopeful

and fear has a brief holiday, a harder day
soon to come, in last blessing from…Amanat



Amanat  an Urdu word meaning treasure.  The name given to a young woman
whose brutal rape and murder had caused a world wide  focus  on the condition of
women in India, the lack of safety and due process of law.