I’m no more,
Exhilaration seems an umpteen victory cry,
Wake up and envision the grim reality,
I’m still alive,
Forsaken to live, no matter how many times you tried!!!
Recurring deaths have only reddened the soil,
With fear of terror resurrecting from the ground,
How many Ravana’s have been burnt so far?
How many kids not been found??
Today you burn my personifications,
With joy & elation spread around,
Look closely who is burning,
With sprinkles of bombs scattered abound!
Time on time, year on year,
The festival seems to gain its faith,
How many effigies would you continue to burn?
Shouldn’t you be doing something against the death brigade???
Satisfied burning me once a year?
With no concern to stop the terror,
You will all get caught unaware, yet again,
and I will continue to watch with pleasure!!!
Help me salvage, practice what the lord preach,
I wish to siphon off self now,
Eradicate poverty, hunger & terror,
To allow truly Ravana to Rest In Peace!!!
-By Ravana, on seeing itself burning in all nooks & corners of the country on eve of Dusherra
Categories: Heart Beats, Poems
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