Impotent we stand and witness
The gruesome terror senseless,
As Mumbai weeps
Her sons and daughters fall in acts of bravery
Sanguine buds in a sacrificial pit
In the darkness of November nights.
Mumbai lies bleeding again.
She has seen her children die
In riots, blasts and fire,
Mowed down again
In a nightmare
By wickedness unparalleled,
Devilish and devious.
Her lap was home
For all those who came
From distant lands
Indian and abroad.
She was home for the persecuted
From all over the globe,
A cultured madam to the sailors,
Who set foot on her shores,
In their quest for gold and scents,
Gems, wisdom and condiments.
In you were blended, dear Mumbai,
Passion, culture, spice of life,
Hidden beneath your wealth and posh
Was always an unseen bond
That tied us rich and poor
All alike like gleaming gems
In a necklace of Indian-ness.
We walked your streets
Like in a dream
As do romantic leads
In fairy-tales feathery light
Played on our silver-screens.
Our goals were sure,
Our eyes azure,
We never had time for care,
Your embrace was so secure.
Temples, churches, and mosques we built
Together in one-nation spirit.
For something sacred from our past
Told us we were never apart.
We cackled like Diwali crackers
As we feasted Ramadan nights,
We smiled like Christmas morning
We were always one and one.
Misguided religion, death and terror,
Our enemies have them without any measure.
They are indeed a vilely lot,
Who place bombs in market hearts,
Desecrate all our holy hearths,
Shoot and kill us sans any thought.
A nation cries aloud to heavens
To send her savior daughters and sons,
Alas! in the pitch darkness around
Will she ever find those dear ones?
Will her prayers ever be heard?
Will he come half-clad,
With a disarming smile, bespectacled,
Holding a walking stick, of concrete will,
Speaking a language of peace?
Or will she be seen serving the poorest of the poor
With a message to set us free
In Love’s Universal Consciousness?
OM SHANTIH, SHANTIH, SHANTIHI