God is there!
A Philistine killed my brother,
a buoyant youth doted upon
by all the castes of my village.
The recreant bullied a woman
who usually sells pickle and drinks
calling my elder, “ Son, my Son! ”
to pump potion to his heart
that cried often, “Mother, Mother! ”,
though she was of that foe’s caste.
When the post of Temple Trustee
passed from him to my brother,
envy supplanted love in him
and he brewed my brother’s death.
The frail woman blared out soon
that her son was poisoned.
Power and pelf kept the villain
out of the bounds of the law.
I hated to visit my village
and reconciled to keeping calm.
I spent several sleepless nights
being weak to pay him out.
But famine soon parched our village.
People moved out with their bulls
seeking greener pastures.
The villain lost peace at home.
The shopkeepers downed their shutters
on seeing that soaker.
A sudden God-induced impulse
forced him to take a bottle
of insecticde from a shop by force.
He mixed it with newly distilled arrack
and with sparks of anger from his face
tossed the glass up
and emptied it in a gulp.
I was not disturbed in my dreams afterwards
by my restless brother’s ghost.
When people of all castes whispered:
“God is there to avenge
when the lawless lash at the lawful”,
I shed tears at the ways of God.
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poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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