Prisoner’s Time : Anil Sharma

(Recently, Ichchhuk Cultural Academy has awarded comrade Anil Sharma, the Ichchhuk Literary Award, for his outstanding contribution on revolutionary literary movement.  First of all we would like to congratulate him for receiving this award. He is a revolutionary poet and essayist. He is also a central committee member of UCPN–Maoist (Please visit the ‘profile’ on The Next Front). Within the Maoist party, he is known as a young leader of revolutionary spirit. This poem reflects the revolutionary conviction and enthusiasm of a political prisoner. During the people’s war of Nepal, when he had gone to India for the medical treatment,  he was captured along with other senior Comrades by Indian Police and was imprisoned at a notorious Beur jail in Patna, India. This poem was written at Beur jail, Patna. )

With first ray of the sun

When the iron-gate opens

Every morning with dislike

Undergo shouting’s: drink suffering

Endure the torture of gol-ghar1, cell and staff:

Carrying a weighty burden like this

Crawling is the prisoner’s time!

Dear humans!

Walking up and down the steep trails,

As you ask my whereabouts

With my share of prisoner’s time

There’s no news to tell you

Perpetuating pain, the rulers

Do give a piece of bread every day

With curry like a widow’s tears

I’ve had only a robbed moment

And have had a handful of dream

A piece of pen and paper

Kept hidden somewhere around

And threading a dream inside closed wall

Even that however

Does not give the motherly love of the motherland

It cannot return the prisoner home

Cannot give wings to a caged bird

Neither can it cause the sun to germinate

My moment in prison

Is committing a boiling resolution

It’s hurrying ever to hear an explosion.

My moment in prison

Has not a song to sing to you


As you ask about me

It pains deep inside the heart

As you forget

The heart’s pained to remember that you’ve not remembered

The hour in prison keeps paining every moment.

My moment in prison,

Full-loaded tank targeted to entrenchment,

All of a sudden,

Like a scene thrown out at the pavement,

Have the rulers thrown at the pavement

The faith does not yield nevertheless

The dream does not die nevertheless

It’s why inside this slaughter-house

Loitering I’m with bare feet

Experiencing volcano down under the feet.

( April 2006 , Beur Jail, Patna)

Translation : Bharat Kumar Upadhyaya

1. A special cell within the prison house

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