(I wrote this poem two years back: on the 19th of October 2010. The school was off the next day due to the disturbed situations of the city. Unfortunately, things have not changed much. School was off again today. In my home, safe and sound, I wondered again of what mattered to me. I wondered again how each one of them who is dying or dead matters to me. I have never seen it happen. The television makes it appear a far distant phenomenon. What happens in the City seems like a happening of another world. That is the same for many. It is about time this stops; about time we learn to compromise with our differences and live with our diversity. About time we begin to feel for what is happening around us: before it all hits home.)
The school is off!
I whooped, I cried,
I ran around for joy!
And never once I stopped to think:
They couldn’t even say goodbye!
They; and each and every one
Who died in the same way:
Violence victims, shattered lives:
They went far, far away.
And not even a hug or kiss,
Or parting word of ‘bye
Could they impart to their loved ones
Who waited all the nigh’.
And wait they would forever more,
And every night as such
Would fast relive the memory,
The burning of the heart.
To all those people, all those lives:
The living dead, the dead alive:
For how long more!?
For how many nights!?
There is a mother waiting by the fireside.
A wife who grieves with swollen eyes.
A girl who has forgotten how to smile.
A boy who is drained of all his life.