I need some paper, to write a letter,
which the birdie will take and fly.
Life has been litter, bit bitter,
Hell broke loose from the sky.
Things will get better, some time later,
but for wounds, I will cry.
You need some water, from Father,
I wrote it all, to him the birdie will fly.
Was it meal or poison in platter,
Oh, you never said Googbye.
Some reaons, to hang mistakers,
No matter, I will never say you Hi.
Oh, I know, your smile goes like this,
Oh, I know, your brows arched like that,
Oh, I know, You kissed my gift, tried to ring,
But now I miss, I know I miss,
To there I ask, where now you live,
My birdie to fly, fly high,
Never see down, There is blod on ground,
Just fly to you,
Bring your last message from you.
Though I lost none from my immediate or extended family in recent carnage in Mumbai, but some would have, we can only assess losses but will never feel them. I dont know whether there is any solution to it or not, the terrorism. But I know there must be some one up there, who gives us power to stand tall and fight against them…