From Gaza

by Fabiyas M. V.

It’s not a Hollywood Movie show.

Fire-rain showers so heavily.
Blood flows through the furrows.
All the tender plants are parched.
Reapers in the military uniform
celebrate the cruelest harvest.
Their guffaws fall near our blank
ear-drums. Even Satan sobs sitting
in a nook of the world.

This is a new make of cruelty,
perfectly senseless. Great army!
Their tanks and they move to
shatter the cute toys. It’s heroic
indeed! Each war remained widows
and orphans – no need of such
anxieties here – it’s a true annihilation.
None can mould that cruel adjective,
even if you melt ‘horrible’, ‘terrible’
and all such words in the dictionary,
for human history to qualify it.

Shells canker the petals of childhood.
Innocence is drowned in blood.
Spring is uprooted from the lap
of Gaza, whose tap- root seeks
for a drop to resist.

Where’s my half naked father
to say ‘No’ ?
Alas! My mother is blind and deaf.
And her tongue is paralyzed.
The world around is in hibernation.

Forgive us, sweet babes,
the sense frozen brains
perform the tragic ballet,
and we are mere spectators.
Forgive us, gentle ladies,
the chief of the huntsmen blows
his pipe again, we have decided
to keep away from his sight.