The bird, so blue, it perched the cherry tree
Sang me some songs of perfect harmony
Told me a tale, it told so very few
Cast me a glance, that rendered me anew!


Came along the way, a hunter I despised
“I come for your bird” His eyes so searched and pried
His eyes, like a hawk, discerned the bluish plume,
My hands were bound so tight, I was unable to stem the doom

He snatched my bird, in front my very eyes
He plucked its plumage off, &ate it raw with rice
He burnt its feathers, and yet I couldn’t move
Then vanished from my sight, and left e here in gloom


That bird, now gone, my true lament began,
From valley to gorge, with tireless feet I ran,
For the vile hunter searched I, and sought him out at last
But my lands he’d long crossed, reminded me my past


That bird was none other, than our freedom, O brother,
The safety that was gifted by our very own doting mother
A leader or m’be two, we are now left to blame,
Awaiting that one day when we all meet again



Are we so guileless? We who sit here, all,
Witness our own mother breaking from the fall?
Her blood being spilled in the night; undercover
Blind and yet we see, her silent ways of suffer?


Is this the famed patience we daringly uphold?
Is this the startling way, our future will unfold?
Will not we fight for our sweet bird once so blue?
For want of our true rights; OUR FREEDOM? OUR DUE?


This has been on my mind ever since the Mumbai Attacks last month. We are racing towards the end of this year, But can we look back one day and call this year a great one?
I don't think so.
I ask today this question to every Indian, who has witnessed the attacks:

Why Have You Forgotten the Horror that surfaced in Mumbai?