Kala Pani

A journey that lasted for days

revolutionary made their way.

Towards an island isolated,

Where azure water waited.

But shores resonated account

Of horrors there to be found…

Torture, hunger, loneliness

filled their life,

Where freedom fighters like slave,

in cellular jail did strive.

Hours of tortuous work

in ferocious sun,

Being whipped for water

made them stun.

Spirit of revolutionary they tried to break 

Making their confidence shake.

The wearisome bodies were denied rest,

Sinister punishment brought more stress.

Days were monotonous and long,

Draining their energy strong.

The little cell had no view,

Neither any escape route they knew.

Arduous labour was rewarded

With evening shackled.

In solitary confinement

Where vehemence they tackled.

The mute witness now tells

In solitude, stories of hell!

Black were labelled the shore

Resonating horrors in galore.

Oh, why I see there tourist laugh?

Have they forgotten

The horrors of the British Raj?