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Nehru
 His heart always ran ahead of his head.
A prince of paradox and a pagan pure,
Idols to him are a deified dread.
But still he renewed his right of tenure
At Nature's sanctum. He swore by reason
Yet led by one who ever seduced his sense
And with deep thought steeped him in dalliance
He couldn't fathom the maverick monk's nuance
Of fight but ever braced for it without demur.
A caged continent of birds was a crime.
He pulsed to give them wings of flight, their dower,
And melt their yoke to be no more human slime.
As he had never been either East or West.
He felt clime and soil a pathetic jest.
-By G. Viswanathan
('From An Ampler Ether')
(Appeared in 'Mother India' Sri Aurobindo Ashram, November 1979)
Flat 104, Banashankari Residency,
8th Main, Girinagar 2nd Phase,
Bangalore 560 085.
Phone: (080) 6721125
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