Dusshera is a Victory Day,
A victory of Lord Ram over Raven,
A victory of almighty God over the devil,
A victory of good over evil,
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It is said to be my life,
Free to color and enjoy,
As I cherish.
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We are in an oozing nation,
Where acts foul, matter little,
As others don’t act at all.
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Blast here and blast there.
Sadly blast everywhere
Blood in the sky, blood in the air,
Blood on the earth, blood in fair.
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Mute nation, counting coffins,
Stands dazed by the pyre,
Waiting for the next victims,
To be put on pyre.
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Enlightened soul,
Empowers a man with inner beauty.
A man with inner beauty,
Vibrates a house with harmony.
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Madness, never ending jaded,
Played by cunning and knaves, faded,
Who cannot bear world’s happiness,
They see method mad in this ugliness.
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Where is my dear India?
She is in hollow media!
Kashmir is a Jihadi den,
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I can not write a book right now,
I was thrown out of my house,
After a half meal; in fear,
By train or by air; I do not know,
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Coldly sadly descend the brutal winter morning,
People waked up to a sudden commotion,
Rushed to their balconies with curious eyes;
A grey bearded man,
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