I do not know why some of us burned the Christian Missionaries,
Somewhere in Orrisa, the Land of Jagganath,
Some years back, shrouding our existence with a mark,
Yet to be invented even by the evolving and living English language.
My grand father died in a Christian missionary Hospital,
He was afforded the best of care under Jesus's presence,
HE knew from the start I was never and will never be a believer,
But he did his best to keep and give me solace.
I do not know why some of us burned the Christian Missionaries,
Somewhere in Orissa, the Land of Jagganath,
Some years back, shrouding our existence with a mark,
Yet to be invented even by the evolving and living English language.
Dr. Graham Stuart Staines and his two sons Philip aged 10 and Timothy aged 6 all Australians were burned alive on 22nd January 1999. When some petty racial violence in Australia hits Indian news papers we go on war on our tea tables. So much for Indian wisdom and our plurality of thoughts.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem