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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