History, they say, always repeats itself.
In my homeland, helplessness repeats itself.
Our pangs never settle into grief,
or mourning or bereavement.
A fresh shot of agony injected shamelessly
to scour our wounds.
This time again they eyed him in the crowd
And shot him in the head.
I’m not fond of national pride
But I stand in awe of the patience, the tolerance of my people,
in this great democracy where our blood is disposable.
What have you given to our homeland?
Barbed wires and shattered windows,
agonised orphans and wailing widows.
Soldiers who don’t know why they are where they are,
why they kill, who they kill.
I ask of the silent watchers;
Is your silence not criminal too?
A horrifying gang rape in Delhi, and you take the streets.
The “Jawans” gang raped an entire village here,
but your indifference has prevailed.
I have long ago given up on you.
I sneer at your promises.
I laugh at your discussions on Kashmir,
for we can never be at peace
while you remain in denial.
By Him who turns the hearts!
Feigning innocence will not do
Let justice rule, and let us be.
Till then, we are all in a perennial loop
and another one of us will bite the dust.