THE ZENITH OF ALL SACRIFICES  


                              

This poem is inspired by the news that  Late Mr. Simon Britto's was donated to a medical college for academic purposes.

https://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Kochi/brittos-body-to-be-donated-to-mch/article25884818.ece    

  
We are born, all of us, naked  with no strings except the cord, 
 Growing, absorbing and acquiring  the earthly pleasures too, 
 Ambitions take wings, time and again, without any discord, 
 Never in our prime, do we think that our lifespan is short too.  

 Build castles on earth, more often in air, every now and then, 
 Little we do realize, we have a time bound stay here for sure, 
 Yet we have Himalayan ambitions for a five plus feet person, 
 We aim high, true to the word, often forfeit our tenure here.  

 Here is one comrade, who lived truly  for principles for years, 
 This verse not to pen his achievements, but saluting his wish, 
 On his death, the mortal remains must lie on anatomy table, 
 Letting the future medical graduates learn their skills afresh. 

We all salute his final wish, indeed a sacrifice for a noble cause, 
Think for a brief moment, the anatomy we did learn years back, 
We oft forget the cadaver on whom, our journey did cruise, 
Yet we boast our degrees, our achievements till we hit the sack.
   
Hold the scalpel to cut the masses, fully aware of our old anatomy, 
Forgetting that embalmed body, when our quest for degree began,  
A dead body destined to be the food for ants, here laid for nobility,  
Such unknown sacrifices  do help medical sciences to scale its peak.  

May his tribe increase! We all salute his noble wish in generous term, 
A time for introspection for us too, about sacrifices and their donor, 
A mother who carries the child in her aching womb for many a term, 
Never for a moment, she  thinks this or the aches and pains in labor. 

 Parents spare no pains, gearing the wards to fathom greater summit, 
 A teacher in any grade spills her knowledge to create a new disciple, 
 A true leader forgets his ills for the uplift of the country in his might, 
 A  food for thought, let our body sing our sacrifices after our demise.