Hey, mister
Today, I saw a girl cry
I saw rivers die, and I saw eyes shy
away from the cold gaze
of a predator looking for a prey
I also saw a man stretch his hands far and wide,
like a tree spreading its branches for shade and hide
but then his fingers curved and curved and curved
till they were closed down as fists
coming down as hail
and they hit her face
marred her skin and yet she stood unfazed
Hey mister
Today, I heard of a war
of a war not overseas
not in other countries
but right here,
with people on their knees,
begging and tongues tipped with pleas.
I also heard of a child,
who loved his parents,
he was shot in the head,
for being child of idealogical caste long dead.
His only fault, was that somebody, someone, somewhere long back
that his family was born to serve,
and that he got what he deserved.
Hey mister
Today, I saw a man
on his knees with his face in his hands
his cheeks were tracked with tears,
mourning the loss of his land,
where his ancestors once grew
cotton and honey,
now stood tall buildings,
small springs
trees bending
down to the will of men
with more money than its leaves
guns blazing
stars blinking
I also saw a solitary flower blooming
in the browns of factories
and industries belching
out smoke
where once lived families with households,
villages with home-folk
voices and thoughts outspoke
animals and the gentlefolk.
But now stood tunnels and buildings and houses,
which could now cloak
the forgotten stories of the kin-folk.
Hey mister,
Today I saw a water gushing,
down the taps of a little slum,
situated past the line, where comforts ended,
and started at the line,
where wills bended,
there was once a river,
which ran faster than our thoughts,
and roared louder than our petty bouts,
now the river had more filth,
than it has water,
it had turned into a memory,
soon to be forgotten
by everyone but the people,
who still stayed up all night,
had fought every fight,
burned their soul to just make it alright,
for their children sleeping in little cots,
made of sweat and blood and hopeful thoughts.
Hey mister,
Today, I saw a woman lay on her deathbed,
with her innocence snatched away,
by hands and eyes that strayed,
and then they let him get away,
so now his shoulders don’t sway
under blame
under shame
believing the pretence that her words didn’t matter much
than what was beneath her clothes.
so now her nightmares only have
Broad, ugly hands,
closed eyes,
sweltering thighs,
blood between her legs,
and scratches on her arms
pleas as she begs
a world shaded by a dark lens
and a defeated silence.
Today I also saw a boy love,
a girl who followed a different god
who had beliefs wide and broad
but no where those beliefs spoke of
a life where you shouldn’t love
someone who doesn’t follow the same saying,
in a world where love is the most natural thing,
next to laughter and joy,
and smile and pain
and loss and gain,
and rejuvenation and flame.