ALTER VIEW

TOM ALTER, Well-known to Indian movie-goers, Tom Alter has also exhibited his talent in serious theatre, as a distinguished master of ceremonies, as a sports writer and columnist, and as a novelist.

 

Message in a bottle –

A poem written in anguish and yet full of hope – that we may yet redeem ourselves, individually and collectively on receiving this message

(upon seeing a poster in a Delhi school, showing the ‘Chhey Nishaan’ – (the Six Symbols) – of Bharat – and realizing that of the six, three – the National Animal, the tiger; the National Game, hockey; and the Father of the Nation, Gandhi – we have slain, and of the other three – Peacock, the National Bird; Kamal (lotus) and the National Flag, Tiranga – they are either threatened, or in dire need of our true love and commitment --)

On an island in a city, surrounded by the night –
An island in an ocean, where darkness dazzles bright –
I send forth a message, in a bottle of glazed thought –
A message of scented wonder, not knowing wrong from right –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – colours matched in hue –

A tiger roars in the weeping night, alone in majesty –
His roar is ours, his tears ours, how he shone in majesty –
I sense his power, feel his grace, know his elegant ease –
How with him we, too, should have grown in majesty –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white, and green – gifted free to you –

Dappled gold about Dhyan Chand’s sweat-sweetened neck –
Burnished with such splendour, speck by dusty speck –
Roop, Balbir, Claudius, Gentle and Gurbux –
Eight times we stood upon victory’s shining, golden deck –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – overdone, not overdue –

Three shots in the evening, leading into dark –
Three shots at the prayer meeting, cold and stark –
His frail chest accepted them, his faith took the pain –
Three shots in the evening, each finding its mark –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – what do we now do?

A peacock downs his feathers, a lotus drowns in doom –
A flag unfurls at sunset, the breeze ruffling the gloom –
We are the victims, we the bullets three –
We are cursed as we are blessed, from birth unto the tomb –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you
Saffron, white and green – like dust on morning dew –

We took his land, his lair, his very home and heart --
We hunted him for sport, we played our human part –
His teeth, his skin, his loins, his skull and curling paw –
We sold for simple greed, we ripped his soul apart –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – a pledge long overdue –

Now ageing men in ageing rooms, fight out the noble game —
Greed and power and ego play, to win or lose the same –
Sticks are raised in anger, where youth once dazzled free –
Factions and benefactors now share our hockey’s shame –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – where once played royal blue –

For fifty years of visioned pain, he walked truth’s lonely trails –
His words our path, his thoughts our goals, his dreams our billowed sails -
For five and a half tormented months, we let him live frailly free –
Before we took his last prayer, and turned it into a nation’s wails –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – how sad the winds they blew –

But the tiger is a beacon, a ray of shining grace –
And sport is as a comfort, a subtle, healing race –
And prayer meetings go on forever, far into the night –
And together they teach us wisdom, the gentle, perfect pace –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – in deep and royal blue –

The peacock prays at sunset, no shots do ring out now –
The lotus blooms at sunrise, her scent does sing out now –
Tiger, hockey, mahatma – all arise to the call –
What subtle shades of truth, the evening does bring out now –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – they sparkle into view –

Here upon my island, in antiquated rhyme –
Am I out of rhythm, from some other time –
Feathers soft caress me, scents fill my sense deep –
Higher and yet higher, my hopes, my dreams do climb –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – from detail to overview –

We sit in greedy splendour, we sleep in glittered ease –
We reach for yet another, we do as senses please –
An ocean of empty houses, a sea of empty hearts –
Each island a fortress, each foe on bended knees –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – delivered right on cue –

And yet we are forgiven, time and time again –
By people of such vision, rhyme and rhyme again –
Some healing force guides the light, heals the wounded dark –
We play our frail and failing parts, mime and mime again –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – hello and then adieu –

Songs never quite written, promises made, not met –
A tiger cub leaps lonely, a sun begins to set –
As if on puppet-strings, we play out our human game –
A mahatma prays at evening, and we repay the debt –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – harsh winds harshly blew—

Tiger rests with peacock, lotus adorns the hockey goal –
Tiranga unfurls over bullets, individuals complete the whole –
In sudden bursts of wonder, we lurch over pass and plain –
Our hearts are rich with sorrow, wisdom scents the soul –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – challenge tightening the screw –

A burden is upon us, a deed is our decree –
We must earn again that right, that wisdom to be free –
We have slain and sinned, we have dared and done –
Now we must search together, we must be what we must be –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – a ship searching a crew –

Whom do we blame now, what foreign hand can we curse –
When we ourselves fire the bullets, we ourselves disperse –
History is a comfort, a threat, a fort, a jail –
And yet the present we make, both cradle and haunted hearse –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – colours old and new –

I gaze out on the darkened sea, ablaze with ships of greed –
I gaze out on the darkened sea, the moon a beam of need –
What we want, we get – or try to get – at any cost or price –
But even as we reap the field, do we plant any hope of seed? –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – what we saved and what we slew –

I sense a prayer on heaven’s peak, I sense a pain at dawn –
I sense a loss of what we were, what shone and now is gone –
We earn far more, we learn far less, we gather, garner, gain –
I sense a sigh at possessions’ door, like a weary, crumpled swan –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – as we all wait in queue –

And then, in the forest of the night, I hear the tiger’s roar –
I see again the flashing stick, the crowd calling out for more –
I see his face, his smiling eyes, hear his firm and gentle tread –
As if a message came back to me, urging me to soar –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – whom to blame, whom to sue –

A message in a faded bottle, and yet the message clear –
A message clothed in khadi, a message true and dear –
It bobs upon the tainted waves, it bobs upon tainted tide –
A message edged with gold, gold without foe or fear –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – from sea to you , from sea to you –

I read the words, I touch the words, with fingers trembling and pale –
The paper fine parchment, fine edged, travelled a fragile trail –
Teardrops, sweat, dust, and the wisdom of the road –
Words that touch the inner spring, words that cannot fail –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – and now a hint of blue –

A tiger’s claw, a hockey stick, a trusted spinning wheel –
They grace the words with innocence, with such a gentle feel –
I hold back my tears, my fears, my very inner self –
I know the message is for me, I know it true and real –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – what guilt we did accrue –

‘Be strong, be true, be in harmony with nature, man, and beast –
Beware the power of human might, be aware of the very least –
Know that you are everything, know that you are nothing at all –
Be the bread that god does bake, and yet be his chosen yeast –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – blessed with a subtle hue –

‘Be full of truth and grace, be yet afoot on life’s gravel –
Be justice and just, and yet, abide by nature’s one gavel –
Learn from the past, yearn not the past, move in harmony –
Weave your own tapestry, but let not other’s unravel – ‘

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – in mandir and in pew –

The tiger lies upon my knee, his eyes finally at rest –
The hockey stick, still made of wood, my ageing hand has blest --
And his words, soft as silence, as fragile as the truth –
Tell me of his journey, of his never-ending quest –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – nothing now to subdue –

And listening at my elbow, are peacock, lotus, tiranga –
Flowing in the ocean now, saraswati, yamuna, and ganga –
And tiger and hockey and father, alive again for us,
Join hands in past and future, an eternal trisanga –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, green and white – what has been done, what to do –

Nothing is for certain, nothing written on life’s empty page –
None of us a guru, none of us the final sage –
We must learn from the message, and send it out again –
We must strive to reach perfection, and yet learn at every stage –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you –
Saffron, white and green – how through them breezes blew –

My island is not only mine now, nor the sea for my message alone —
We are all alive together, together we must atone –
The six symbols are ours, to slay or keep alive –
With them we have perished, with them we have grown –

A message in a bottle, from you to me, from me to you-
Saffron, green and white – greetings, now, and adieu --