The Chains of Heaven – A Semi-Epic Poem {77 Lines – With a Mexican Myth Tie-up}

The Chains of Heaven – Intro

The Premeditation:

Every time I start writing a poem, the toughest and the most boring part of the blog would be this premeditation part. I know, but what to do, it is a memoir. I just cannot leave it. Before going to the poem, I want to express, and at the same time, record what that is I am feeling at the moment.

Since childhood, I always am highly fascinated with the idea of The Hero. People suffering because of an injustice; may that be social, religious or political, this hero entering the scenario with his demigod kind of an attire and then, cleansing of all the pains from the people.

Starting from the Divine tales of Ramayana and myths of Prometheus and others, the thematic-tradition runs down till the latest of movies. While myths are too complex for us to decode and understand, and movies are too unrealistic/cheesy for us to hook on to this willing-suspension-of-disbelief or something, history sometimes provides live examples. But there, in history, there never is a singular hero. There always are people. I myself have seen a hundred movies and books together, in which, all of them claim that a particular person has helped the World War 2 to end as it has ended. Starting from the movies of Michael Apted to Ken Follett books, there are a thousand heroes in History.

Aright, but then, I have found one, like what I was waiting for: Simple, engaging, meaningful and, a myth! A native American Mexican myth of how fire landed up in the hands of humans.

Apart from complex stories of East, like Agni has come down to earth or Prometheus has risked himself to elevate humanity, the native Mexican myth goes in a beautiful way inculcating ghosts, animals and humans together. You’d find the tale after the poem:

The Chains of Heaven – Poem

All the heroes there ever are.

All those whose hearts are moved by others' tears.

My Muses who are Brave and Patient

The days are fine today. The days are great. We are being graced by the heavens and no fire rains are over our head. The gods are quite nice today. But were they the same all the way? I doubt so. What if they’re not fine enough? Would a Man stand for Men?

God's days were they,
When men were mere slaves,
Drank with the grace
Of the race that left behind
And made us pray.
That was their play;
Making us plea and pray;
Show us their bare snare,
To scare and glare;
Sending a message: we aren't their heirs;
Ruthlessly. Those gods were unfair.
Doomed Lands:
Original sin, they said,
And called our fates sealed.
None dared, for it is not rare
To find men die of hunger.
Men could bare,
Both death and their skin's tear;
Tots couldn't,
So they rear tears out,
From their flaming stomachs.
Mothers do care;
They'd carry their babies
And feed them milk,
For water's so scarce,
They couldn't spare always
When they need it.
Thirsty Eyes:
In the darkened woods, with stones in hand,
Men would walk and steal a glance,
Through all the trees and make it sure,
No deadly beast will come and brew.
Kids would wait with sticks and chants;
Wives would hold their hearts,
Gods might strike and make out fun,
Or they might send their hounds.
Food would rot and water vapors',
Men would flee like they're scrappers,
The least of beings were men,
And all the beasts mocked us,
Showing heavens.
The Pain:
Love was lost
And cost of life
Has gone so low;
When men grow old,
The gold they've grazed
Would be thrown in
Their son's household and
They'd leave into woods
And no, never would they be seen,
For we are tired to grieve!

For any tale, when people are suffering, from the grieving racks of people, a strong hand would be built.

From the consciousness of the people’s torments, a man would raise and the man would be forged as a HERO.

This poem is meant to be a dedication to all the heroes who are born and helped their race to raise up, their sails to surge up and ceased all the pains

He, who has not feared the fires of hell,
He, who wouldn't be smeared by the sands of time,
Yes, he, who dares and drags the chains of heaven
Would walk past the mourning mobs,
Would cleanse all that's wrong,
And he would bring the rains back home,
Would hold grains staunch and strong,
Would feed the hearts which
Are wreaked by the witches
Of that wretched heaven.
To the frail and failed,
To the hearts that wail,
When the trails of Gods were too much to bear,
He looks like a rain
Which has come down
From heavens,
To bath and to drain,
All their skin's brown
And off their burdens
"Nostrils flaring with rage,
Eyes shining with wisdom,
Walking through world with grace,
He looks like the king of Man's new kingdom.
Hands of his could easily drag moons,
He has locks and he grooves,
Fear, in his heart has no room,
When he talks, he sounds like God's doom!"

The Rabbit and The Fire:

{I am sorry everyone, the story I am about to tell you is a great great one, I cannot present it in all its beauty; I’ll try to keep it as simply as I can.}

So, it was a time when animals and humans were living together. Humans are living in utter darkness. Diseases are prevailing. The only solution for this ill-phenomenon was Fire.

On a huge mountain, there lived ghosts, terrible ones which got fire. Ghosts dance around fire every night. They don’t share it. So, the only plausible solution for human beings was to steal it. Humans are too innocent to steal it. What to do?

Animals come front, they say they will help humans.

There is one disadvantage and one advantage: No visible animal can reach the mountain. The ghosts will kill anything that enters the premises of the mountain. The advantage is that ghosts cannot leave the mountain and reach the human territory.

Different animals offer that they’d go to mountain, but different reasons come up and at last, a brave rabbit devices a splendid plan and says it is the rabbit that should be going.

The rabbit plucks a few feathers from different birds and makes a hat for itself, so that explains from where these Mexican feather-hats come from. The rabbit sneaks through the mountain and reaches the lair in which all the ghosts dance around the fire.

The ghosts sees the rabbit and they suddenly try to attack it. But the rabbit, being very good at talking, convinces all the ghosts that it did not come to steal the fire, but to entertain them. The ghosts too, looking at the size of the rabbit, doesn’t consider it as a potential danger.

The rabbit starts dancing, it will dance until all the suspicion was totally gone away and then, in a dance move, it lights the feather hat and dances. It amuses the ghosts, but in a split of a moment, it starts running out of the liar and tries to escape.

Ghosts pursue it with a terrible rage.

The rabbit is flawless. The plan it devises was special. It gives a role for every animal in the plot. I don’t remember the sequence, but I think, a crow waits near by and the rabbit lits-up the crow and goes off, the ghosts try to pursue the burning crow, but it flies off and just before going to fall down, it lits the tail of the fox, but because of the burning the crow has turned into black forever! Amusing isn’t it?

In this way, all the animals, risking their lives gets the fire down to humans, burning their selves and getting marked forever. The fire at last reaches the human territory and humans start making wonders with it!

Haha! Then I thought. This rabbit is very special. There is nothing like it ever! It is a hero too. A little hero who did a great deal for Humanity itself!

{As always, I bow down to my muses who held my hand and made me write!}

3 Comments Add yours

  1. pravallika759 says:

    Wow… Wow…. Really amazing…! Good one…!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you so much!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Nandini indoria says:

    It’s amazing…to good… beautiful!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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