Sunday, April 19, 2009

Apropos Angiras

Sunday, April 19, 2009 Lest he resurrect

Unsung, his memory shall live on
Orphaned, his essays lie forlorn.

Death the victor, nothing to rejoice
Ideal thing: had he had to confess.
Fame, they say, comes only after death
Give the devil* his due, the Bard sayth.
(*No pun intended)

A controversy compelled his birth
Conflict, a cause célèbre raged on earth
Epistles, angry, unsavory
Composed in taut prose not so hoary
Were doing the rounds telling disgust
Against an author and no love lost.

He wrote their rejoinders brick by brick
Until the harried readers fell sick
Uproar arose to call it a halt
He crafted his own grave by default
Consigned to oblivion, he stands tall
A la Rajkumar in Neelkamal. [TNM]

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