Born to die at Stromboli
« Think, the world remembers only the poets. The name of a country depends on how its poets behave. »
Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan, the Philosopher-President of India*
Whoever dies at his Stromboli
needs no excuse to be born
as those who sail their ships
to the farther regions of the mind
even if they lose their way
finding their way back to sanity
While those who invent the Soul
construct pyramids
cathedrals
stupas
to raise those royal patrons
who raised them
to the skies
or even
those who lived to soothe others
with televisions
cars
innoculations
like those who raised townships
settled industries on reclaimable land
Much like those who gave their names
to bills of rights
to streets
faculty buildings
political dynasties
All these and more may need no excuse
Such even centuries hence may not accuse
But where alas is the poet
the painter of million melodies
assailing the living tastes of times
and bounded traditions
they that need to be examined
explained
exclaimed
declaimed
Men who have strayed from the volcano of their birth
For fear of leaving no revenge nor challenge on this earth
Note
* The philosopher's parting words to me in New Delhi when he was the vice-president in May 1961.
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poem by T. Wignesan
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