Fireworks scream, but so few of them seen
The Delhi night sky is of pure gasoline
It’s a maze of a haze that is thicker than thieves
It’s a Christmas without any Adams and Eves
A festival littered with living for less
Than the worth I assign my semantic excess
I am one in a billion perceiving it thus
Because I am afraid it returns us to dust
Of invisible stars, so unnoticeably
Lost on these earthling’s electricity
How could they be phased by the brilliance of gods
When they drool at bedazzling splendors of frauds
And they worship mirages of angels and demons
Polluting their Ganga and Yamuna Edens
With Kashmiri violently mountains eroding
Partition eruptions of chaos exploding
Like Company cannons that made them all pay
To celebrate freedom in slums of Bombay