Citadel of Silent Pain

Ayan Adak

Here, in the citadel of silent pain We can only read -

Of tales of some of the suffering souls A fraction of their immortal deed

So many sons of the motherland dead In these isles of a paradise sea

Do we even know the price they paid That today we call ourselves free

The pilgrims who know flock one by one

To Veer Savarakar’s lonely cell,

While the hundred other Veers in the other cells Stare and cry and silent wail

I look at the locks, the tetris bricks, Guilt at our youth, our uselessness Whatever we do, will it be enough To face one martyr’s teary gaze?

If only these ochred walls could speak Could we complete a single tale? Instead, we take photos and tag the world, ‘Look, I have visited Cellular Jail!’

Hundreds of names adorn the walls From Punjab, Bengal, Madras, Bihar, There are thousands more, forgotten names

Unknown soldiers, interred this far

I climb atop the Cellular – star, There’s so much gloom I cannot drink, The tricolour flutters in the sunset far

Another ordinary day comes to sink

Drowned in guilt, I ask again Even it be on the best of our days - Whatever we do, will it be enough

To face one martyr’s teary gaze?

The flag flutters, I hear it say, Keep the lessons, remember, relearn That the souls who give, they never ask

What is it that comes in return

They gave that you can take today,

All of the joy, some of the pain Of the empty wounds that never heal

Indelible shades of an invisible stain

The least we can do as we walk today, Sons of the same Mother that we are Is to remember these walls, the tales within

Once upon a time, was a bleeding scar…