India Pakistan Bangladesh
My blood is not your blood,
We are tied to the same umbilical stud.
I am cast differently, your cast is out of caste,
The die though is made from the same foundry of our fathers heart.
We share the same mother, but mine is prettier.
We share the same sister but yours is uglier.
I carry the cross for no fault of my thought,
You lived the cross through yore for a thought that was not yours.
We have one more brother, he too shares the same mother,
We fight with each other, and we fight and we shout,
Mommy's dead and her body needs a shroud.
None of us listened to her, now don't shed tears bury her.
Ugly, pretty, is no longer an issue,
dear mothers dead, she is now a tear absorbed in a tissue.
There's no one to now call us indu, minku or pinku.
Hardik Vaidya's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (India Pakistan Bangladesh by Hardik Vaidya )
- ZZ The Many Ways Soldiers Die, Saiom Shriver
- Lately, Dominique Lamboy
- MY WORDS AND HER WORDS كلماتي و كلماتها, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Drawing Inspiration, Tony Adah
- Bumblebees Bibbing, Saiom Shriver
- Tum Muze Kaha Pyar Dete Ho, ravipal bharshankar
- When He's Not Here, Lora Colon
- Charlotte Old Times (The Cure), B.. Alexander
- Cardinal flower, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- Down the Memory Lane, Valsa George