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| 01/07/1970 |
| THE MORTIS CAUSA |
Written after a visit to the Central Board of Revenue, Islamabad.
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He bore it before my misted eyes
And laying it down, he sighed,
“It did not stand an earthly chance,
though Heaven knows it tried”.
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I turned the limp form over,
Saw lacerations undried.
Remorse o’erflowed my aching heart;
“Democracy’s done,” I cried.
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“Mourn not, O grieved citizen,”
the PA gently replied,
“Neglect was the mortis causa;
your file need not have died”.
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“Bureaucracy has its rituals;
Their observance 'not be denied.
A note should have been prepared
and with your filed supplied”.
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I hung my head, cursed myself
for not having complied,
and fumbling in my pocket
slipped a note from the notes inside.
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| 01 July 1970 |
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| All Poems |
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