Poem: Oh, Palanquin

How I am inspired, at the same time, intrigued by Sarojini Naidu’s poem about Palanquin Bearers. My poem is poignant and against privilege and punishing labor, while hers is celebratory.

Poem : Oh, Palanquin.

One of the three palanquins in the Thirupanithura Palace Museum, Kerala India.

Oh Palanquin, how you bridge the divide
For one inside, the sort of comfort you provide
For one outside, shoulders and arms ache
The passenger’s weight, the four bearers must take.

Oh Palanquin, the bearers, your weary wheels
Every muscle and sinew strain, heads to heels
Rain or shine, through uphill and heat,
Bearing the burden, silence complete.

Oh Palanquin, behind carved cabins and decorated curtains
Is the royal rollicking the ride, I am not certain
Trapped in darkness, lonely, voiceless and blind
Privilege can be cruel, privacy can be unkind.

Oh Palanquin, the vehicle of privacy and privilege
The breeze hesitates, for a moment, wary of sacrilege
Disturbance — a fleeting glimpse or a little word spoken
Into the silent vacuum of solitude behind those curtains

Oh Palanquin, call this comfort by whatever name
A moving cage is this, an uncomfortable shame
For sufferers in silence, what respite does it provide
Neither for the weary legs nor the wistful soul inside.

~Ashok Subramanian © 2024

Palanquin Bearers

Lightly, O lightly we bear her along,
She sways like a flower in the wind of our song;
She skims like a bird on the foam of a stream,
She floats like a laugh from the lips of a dream.
Gaily, O gaily we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

Softly, O softly we bear her along,
She hangs like a star in the dew of our song;
She springs like a beam on the brow of the tide,
She falls like a tear from the eyes of a bride.
Lightly, O lightly we glide and we sing,
We bear her along like a pearl on a string.

~Sarojini Naidu ©