How's There Gautama? Poem by Santosh Dharma Rathod

Gautama,
Here, your peace is being shattered
into pieces.
Here, the paths you have shown,
Are being named after someone else.
You, your photo, your name, your pose
Are being used, abused and misused
As a logo
Or a credo
On their banners, flags, caps and badges
For their living
On your name.
One says, 'It's my patent, my copyright;
I'll drag you to the court.'
Other claims, 'He's born to us.
He's the tenth incarnation of Lord Vishnu.'
One retorts, 'I have never ever seen his photo in your home;
Show me his image, his figurine at your holy place.
Where is your child being named after him?
Ah, what a sweet home you've named after him! '

Gautama, here break out the wars
For colour,
For animal,
For water,
For land
For food
For all human rights.

Here they take guns, bombs, swords and stones
For God and Allah,
For commerce and trade
For power and superpower.
Overthrowing governments,
Razing houses in a row.
Killing one for another
At the hands of the hapless,
The miserable wretch.

Gautama, here, if one is involved in
Sacrilege and profanity,
The other retaliates
With desecration and vandalism
Shouting deafening slogans
Sans mercy,
Sans peace,
Sans compassion.

And here many other
Just silently and passively
Stand as onlookers
Of one and other fighting
For you and your peace.

How is it there,
Gautama,
How is it there?

Santosh Dharma Rathod