Call to Freedom!

FotorCreated-9I have seen dreams die
Youth crying, panicked
“I cannot see a thing
What happened to my eye”

I have seen sleep stab
Flashes, nightmares
Face in palms, crying
“Where did my peace go”

I have seen mournful weddings
No songs of joy being sung
Groom was shot on the way
“Where did his promise go”

I have heard kids wonder
“Everyone comes with parents
I go alone, with my mother
Where did my father go”

I have seen women
Half widows
Not even a grave to cry
“Where did my husband go”

I hear a mother lament
“He was all I had
Peace to my heart, light to my eyes
Where did my son go!”

I see a procession, a funeral
children mourning
I hear people sloganeering
“Azaadi, Azaadi, Azaadi, Azaadi!”




They asked, ” How are the circumstances?
Still tense and unsafe?
Do you still have bomb blasts
Or meet terrorists?”

Speech failed and so did words
Thoughts raced further than they should
All attempts to describe the place
Went futile; all in vain

This had happened even before
They were national chauvinists
Unable to understand and comprehend
Beloved national can be wrong too.

They failed to acknowledge the land a conflict
For them it an integral part
But the truth lay hidden from them
Truth being the first casualty in conflict.

They trusted what media presented and
Politicians said; situations blown out of control
Being naive,thinking all was truth
Is that not how they ruined it?

Least aware about politics
How leaders used the issue for benefits
How cruel they could be with people
Diplomats and hypocrites .

They failedto know how people disappeared
And were killed in cold blood
No terrorist did so, but
Beloved security desirous of promotions

Neither they knew how voices were suppressed
Tear gases and bullets to shoo away
For them it was only water;
And didn’t sometimes police even protect them?

What they knew wasn’t whole of truth
A three year old can’t be a threat
They weren’t killing terrorists
It was a planned genocide!

Yet, not a word escaped lips
They were national chauvinists
Perceptions and beliefs would clash if expressed
And he, the only child of his mother!


A blast has happened somewhere. I hurriedly grab my pen to write things down. To be given on the official website as the breaking news. Along with are thoughts that I might be late. Others might have already published the news increasing their page views and hence I lag behind. I have to hurry up. Else, I loose the war.

But was a piece of news more important than any other humanitarian help that I could have provided? Was I being a mute spectator while I could have been a savior? Did I sacrifice a soul just because I needed to report back to my workplace with the relevant information and hence chose not to help? Was I being inhumane? Selfish? And my acts were no less than that of the oppressors. They looked towards the victim from the same end as mine. I hold a mic and have a cameraman. I narrate a fancy story or write one.

I waste moments in writing or speaking. Could I not call an ambulance instead? Or ferry the victim in my own cab? Or was I too frightened of receiving canes?

When did my job turn me feeling-less? We all carve for peace and sustenance. But when it comes to action, do all of us do the needful? Do we shun all ego and do the needful? Do we overlook the monetary gain a piece of news would give for the sake of someone’s life? Even if someone does, is the number significant?

In times when medical aid is required and not readily available, can the huge crowd of journalists not prove to be a boon to society if they come forward to help? Can some moments from a journalist’s duty not save a daughter from being orphaned? Can it not save a mother from turning insane? Why can’t we learn to administer basic first aid? Why can’t we value someone’s life more than TRP’s. Is human blood so cheap?