Is this the first? … No!
Seen, suffered, cried,
Many a times … our nation, our people!
Shot, burnt, tortured,
Many a times … our nation, our people!
26/11, Pulwama, Reasi, Many names … our nation, our people!
But I had been the same.
Read them, scrolled on,
Watched them, on big and small screens,
Sipping my morning cup of coffee;
Made meaningless sounds;
“So Sad! Oh No! … God Help Them!”
7 killed, 10 injured,
30 killed, 60 injured,
Mere numbers, a deep sigh!
Tallying the sheets,
Getting back to “My World”!
“My World” was untouched,
Unaffected, Immortal,
Living in a HORCRUX
Until today.
“What changed? Isn’t it the same?
Only 28 so far, still within two digits,
Isn’t that a relief?”
The other self is reasoning with me.
“come on! Sip that black coffee of yours,
Think of what to make for lunch,
Rajma Chawal or Butter Chicken?”
She is sensible, practical,
A coward too!
Unlike her, I am EMOTIONAL,
Today I am winning,
Clock is ticking, breakfast forgotten,
The coffee is cold!
I am there, in the meadow,
Where my ma and pa were, last week,
Instagramming pretty blossoms,
Horse riding, smiling…
I can see them,
A man’s dead body, half naked,
A bereaved wife, still as a night sea,
Broken laal choodiyan.
Thickened, blackened blood,
Smell of loss, pain,
Afflicted souls around me, their pain choking me.
My HORCRUX is broken!!
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