Holi in the times of war

Somewhere the missile inflames the city.

Somewhere the flame-of-the-forest's beauty.

Somewhere, the air smells of gulaal.

Somewhere, the gunpowder stinks the wall.

Somewhere children carrying colours cry in zest.

Somewhere they cry to put their pain to rest. 

Somewhere water guns spray red coloured water.

Somewhere a gun is shot and everywhere red blood spatter.

Somewhere children happily colour each other red.

Somewhere they cry seeing their parents dropping dead.

Somewhere they hide behind doors to save themselves from colour.

Sometimes in dread they try to hide their sickly pallor.

And we proudly call this one world? Are we really one?

Then how can so many children suffer while others are having fun?

Netaji

"I lost you forever even before my birth

but I found you within me,

in the core of my existence,

setting my soul free.

I have never seen you with my eyes

but I have seen you through my soul;

A springing tiger, a braveheart on whom

even death could not take its toll!

The world bows to you, O invincible Prince!

Even now, while you're resting in your mother's womb!

My lament echoes in the cemetery of my losses

The resonance is the hardest in your tomb.

Can't you see the apathy of thousands?

We needed you for our redemption and we always will.

Your shadow looms large. My heart knows you exist. 

This void in our lives, someday, your reincarnation will fill."