A sudden shower of bull
Enough to flood Mumbai roads
With blood and heart wail.
Top heads of MP roll down on ground
The bullets jackets mere fake and hindrance;
303 Rifles they took against the AK47
Refused to fire; yet they stood and fell.
Terrorists held Mumbai, nay India, in their grip,
All cried and wailed for a free breath.
Fire, grenades, bullets and bombs
DANCED AND THUNDERED IN Taj.
Oberoi, and Nariman House.
Smoke rose to the sky. Hopes and aspirations
Lost the cloud of smoke.
The drama continued for full 59 hours,
Instead of jubilant tourists came out
The bleeding, cold and dumb bodies,
The wailing hearts weeping for the lost
Dear ones who jostled and laughed
A short while ago. The fear lurked
In the minds and hearts
Who were fortunate to survive
The onslaught of the ghastly attack;
Tears and hiccups told their tale in silence.
Mumbai stood awe struck, awe struck
Gaped whole India.
Our polity so quick to act for filling coffers
So slow to ask for any help
So careful about the commission
So dizzily our bureaucrats sat on the file
Demanding a plane for the NSG
For quick carrying the squad to the sight
Of any such emergency.
Why should they bother? They are safe.
Safe they are in the hands of our army,
Commandos and MP; for they have to die for them.
They have to die for them
In their old and rusted weapons,
In their dummy bullet-proof jackets.
It took some six hours to take commandos
From Delhi to Mumbai for the action
Which demanded Nation’s immediate attention.
Those who tried to defy the devils in the Mumbai streets
Fled to run for their lives; their 303 refused to fire.
They who were to act in haste
Cowered in quilts before jolted to stir
By the shrieks and cries of the Nation.
Perhaps they mused how to mint money
Out of this sadistic, horrendous play.
Sorry for them! Sorry for them!
Enough to flood Mumbai roads
With blood and heart wail.
Top heads of MP roll down on ground
The bullets jackets mere fake and hindrance;
303 Rifles they took against the AK47
Refused to fire; yet they stood and fell.
Terrorists held Mumbai, nay India, in their grip,
All cried and wailed for a free breath.
Fire, grenades, bullets and bombs
DANCED AND THUNDERED IN Taj.
Oberoi, and Nariman House.
Smoke rose to the sky. Hopes and aspirations
Lost the cloud of smoke.
The drama continued for full 59 hours,
Instead of jubilant tourists came out
The bleeding, cold and dumb bodies,
The wailing hearts weeping for the lost
Dear ones who jostled and laughed
A short while ago. The fear lurked
In the minds and hearts
Who were fortunate to survive
The onslaught of the ghastly attack;
Tears and hiccups told their tale in silence.
Mumbai stood awe struck, awe struck
Gaped whole India.
Our polity so quick to act for filling coffers
So slow to ask for any help
So careful about the commission
So dizzily our bureaucrats sat on the file
Demanding a plane for the NSG
For quick carrying the squad to the sight
Of any such emergency.
Why should they bother? They are safe.
Safe they are in the hands of our army,
Commandos and MP; for they have to die for them.
They have to die for them
In their old and rusted weapons,
In their dummy bullet-proof jackets.
It took some six hours to take commandos
From Delhi to Mumbai for the action
Which demanded Nation’s immediate attention.
Those who tried to defy the devils in the Mumbai streets
Fled to run for their lives; their 303 refused to fire.
They who were to act in haste
Cowered in quilts before jolted to stir
By the shrieks and cries of the Nation.
Perhaps they mused how to mint money
Out of this sadistic, horrendous play.
Sorry for them! Sorry for them!