This poem is not a celebration
Somewhat a deliberation
Often I have listened
to the episodes of strife and hate
Narrated by my
grandfather, the stories that never fade
About communal riots,
separation and humiliation
About plundering,
mental torture and frustration
I was a listener, so I
drew my own imagination
Supported by the chronicles
in movies and animation
I never understood the
‘why’ of it
The effects so sad,
but what was the ‘cause’ of it?
National fragmentation
and mutual disagreements
Joys and sorrows are the same, so
are heart, blood, and sentiments
They look like humans,
so do we, they behave like animals, so do we!
So, time to pause and ponder, pushing through a lack of clues,
why this war stigma stuck to our minds like the flu?
Well, borders have
only meant geography to me
Marked purposefully on
the map
It breaks my heart locating divided pieces of land,
because the books of geography and history
narrated plightful, horrific stories
I ask you, why these
borders? What’s my crime?
This poem looked back, to many funerals and cremation
To each their own
interpretation!
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