The pain of man wrings
stories of pain from my pen
I cannot write of happiness
as the world weeps, weeps
on pyres and graves with
smoke spiralling up the scape;
as bodies in desecration lie
in bags and cardboard boxes;
as democracy asserts amidst
the chaos of dead bodies and
unsensitised souls that
have lost their conscience
in the morass of parliamentary
feuds, forgotten they are human,
part of the clan that dies, suffers,
and has a home on the green Earth.
To love, to live, to breathe, to give
to seek acceptance, tolerance and
grace — such values reinforce
Humanity. Lalon from the
stars surveys with Gandhi and
Tagore. Together they plead:
Rise up! O rise human spirit. Unite
under the banner of the same species.
Sans borders. Sans margins. Sans hates.
Light up your lives with change. Two
moments are never the same. Embrace
the New Dawn with new norms that heal.
Mitali Chakravarty is a human being, part of humanity.
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