K. V. DOMINIC'S POEM 'PRICKING QUESTIONS FROM THE GRANDSON'

Pricking Questions from the Grandson
K. V. Dominic

My little grandson toddling
on front yard of my house
seems to prick me with
questions one after another
Grandpa, what have you left
for me or my siblings to be born?
Polluted is air I breathe
and toxic is food you serve me
Your parents bequeathed you
pure sky and virgin soil
They weren’t selfish
and were thoughtful
of their descendants
How can I survive here?
Too hot is the sun
Electricity fails very often
Swarm of mosquitoes
disturb my quiet slumber
Instead how happy
was your childhood!
If temperature thus
soars year after year
how much more I have to
bear till I reach my youth
middle age and old age?
I have only begun my voyage
And miles to go to reach
my unknown terminus
I even doubt how long
I can row my boat
against huge tsunamis
rushing to gulp me
How fortunate you are
as your parents were!
Unlike your humane parents
your generation proved inhuman
and mercilessly exploited
the bounties of this planet
and drank to the lees
not leaving anything
for our generation’s survival.
© K. V. Dominic