Are they all Kafirs there?

The unknown nurse,
Who had held me first
When I was slipped to her hands;
Is she there?

Ashatti (Asha teacher),
Who wrote Harisree with my finger
On the ricefilled plate;
Is she there?

Mamma teacher,
Who had a nursery school
Of thatched roof and cow-dung floor;
Is she there?

Mathew Chettan,
Who took me on his cycle rickshaw
to the school;
Is he there?

Rappai Chettan,
Who used to replace him
Whenever he was sick;
Is he there?

Doctor Kuruvila,
The first bald head in my life
Who frequented me with his syringe;
Is he there?

Sudheesh, Rajani and David,
the three fallen flowers in the heavy rain
under the tattered upper primary;
Are they all there?

And many more guiding lights,
who had lived with me in different ways,
prayed and thought in different ways;
Are they all Kafirs there?
If they are not there,
I don’t need your heaven,
take it back, my God!
__________________________________
Chettan: elder brother
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When the heart is filled with warmth for the near, dear and those on the edge, what use of Book. Premji, soul elevating muse. Regards,

K V Subba Rao,
Mar 17, 2010
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Bold, beautiful, grateful, noble, sublime, humanistic.

U Atreya Sarma,
Mar 17, 2010
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Dear Prem Nizar, this is the clearest humanitarian and secular voice I have heard in this forum in a long time. Kudos to your civilised outlook. Warm regards,

G S P Rao,
Mar 16, 2010
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Very elevating thoughts.. underneath all the faiths there is a strong current of purity of mind, humanity, compassion and love. Your poem stands out with a strong message that Kafir is man-made whereas love has the elements of the Creator. May your thoughts spread as forest fire to burn all the superstitions to ashes and cinders. May Lord, the Merciful, shower peace on the earth. Best regards,

Kumarendra Mallick,
Mar 15, 2010