I saw the burning houses on the second cross street.
I heard the charred women screaming for their charred babies.
I smelled the burning mortar on the road fresh beyond its melting point.
I spoke? Naught.
I saw the mob running to kill the distinct.
I heard the scream of the pain while the clubs hit his skin.
I smelled the blood & the faeces relieved from him.
I spoke? Naught.
I saw the poor dying & crying by the road.
I heard their screaming wails from hunger pangs.
I smelled the impending death hanging on them.
I spoke? Naught.
I saw the supreme leader raise his fist
I heard his contemptuous words of violence & revenge
I smelled the shallow promises & cowardice within.
I spoke? Naught.
I saw the few that did rage against it take to the streets.
I heard their chants & stand.
I smelled the revolution in them & everything they demanded.
I spoke? Naught.
They saw my body taken for its last rites
They heard the few that raise me chant “ram naam satya hai“
They smelled the death in & within me.
They spoke? Naught.
मंच 