The calm water swallowed quietly
The 26th sun of a cool November
As every soul went on its way,
Some to work, some to slumber.
A shattering sound startled a city,
Whose worst nightmare was from ninety three
An attack of proportions massive at hand
And an infamous history begins in me.
I am the soul of the broken glass
Which spills its heart on Leopold’s door
I once housed the simmering evenings warm
Till I got bathed in a bloody downpour
I am the glitter of the chandelier’s smile
Which once hung proud in the Oberoi
Till I was reduced to a silent audience
To a massacre meted out by but a young boy
I am the soft drape of the Trident’s walls
Which drowned the sound of innocent screams
I watched the red spill, on me and around
My lifelong memories will be bloody dreams
I am the broken wall of the Nariman house
Who housed a crowd of unarmed rabbis
What cowards called an act of bravado
I heard it in little Mosche’s cries
I am the soul of a grand old crown
Whose name was apt as the Majestic Taj
I have seen the worst and best of history’s games
From the riots to times of the British Raj
In my womb are hidden, an evil lot
Whose soul is be-devilled and minds benumb
I stand through fire, and smoke and shakes
And listen to screams fade into a dying hum
I am the heartbeat, of a soldier’s breath
Which screamed in fear amidst concrete courage
I screamed to run at every bullet’s burst
Yet I fought, fuelled by an innocent rage
The murders are fuelled by an insane wrath
And the leaders watch, from a cowardly shell
Hundreds die and as many more fight to live
In this place called home, within a living hell.
Yet my hope rises, as the sunrise comes
And brings new dawn to an angry nation
People unite, one voice cries loud
Enough is Enough, I want salvation
Forever have I been tormented thus,
Raped and left, yet refusing to die
I am the screaming anger of 60 hours
I am the surviving soul of Mumbai
