Friday, November 14, 2008

Bomb blast in the market

Yet another bomb blast in another city

Mangled remains of bikes

Burning cars

Severed limbs

Smoke billowed over the sky carry

Thick stench of burning metal and flesh

A cry for help dies abruptly

Death dances over the blood soaked street

A goddess’s picture hanging helplessly

On the makeshift shop

Mutely looking over the blood and remains

A wailing mother

And a consoling hand

In a corner, fresh cucumber in a basket

The weighing scales

Somebody weighed and somebody bought

Just a few minutes ago

And the bomb went off

How many dead? 60? 65?

No one knows

Who are the victims?

Mothers never returned home with groceries

Innocent childhood playing in the street

Men who never reached their office

The chirpy girls went out to buy bangles

A couple building their dream house

The cobbler under the neem tree

Who hums old Hindi Melodies?

The ever smiling chat- wala?

Who else?

They are not even bodies now

Limbs scattered all around

Somebody somewhere had the last laugh

Victory sign in the air

With all these limbs

Can you bring one life back-

You have taken away in a flash of a second

With all your sophisticated technologies

And precise triggering

Give back the mother to her children

Husband to wife

Children to parents

My anger frustrate on this piece of paper

Tomorrow yet another bomb blast in another city??

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