They came
In as many ways
As is possible:
Flying
On foot
By road
By trains
With a single objective
They came:
Alone
With families
With friends
Hands stretched
Into the sky
In helplessness
They repeated His name
Aloud and alone
Though in groups
Aapatbhandava!
Anaadharakshaka!
Govinda...
Each blade
Each rock
Vibrated
As the name's repeated
Individually and collectively
Thronged across the seven hills
There're no friends
There're no families
Each prayed single
As one stood facing the idol
For nth part of a wink
Turning the whole world
Into one orphanage...!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem