An Ode to my land…

Dark clouds rolling over the land,

Warm Blood splattered on the sand.

Crags are crying

Vultures are dying…

The plaintive wail of 45 million voices

Wretched. Melancholy. Soul Wrenching.

A lone bird cries bravely – cries…Oh so sweetly.

the song of freedom,

Reverberates through Empty Schools.

Empty Halls, Empty Rooms.

Empty Hearts, Empty Minds. (Sigh)

It couldn’t happen here..

© Rishikesh Chhabra [2nd July 1997]