A black dot at a distance, going up and down with the waves
appearing and disappearing, in the dancing rays;

I lie at the seashore, with my darkly tinted glasses on;
shaded by the brightly coloured umbrella above

Basking in the cool shade, and loving the fresh air
I see the black dot; such tininess, against the blue backdrop

Huge ships and jet boats, swoosh the waters;
creating white rush; glamorous, in the mid-afternoon spell

Time ticked off its way to dusk; growing the dot;
giving it body and life; and before I knew more,

Men with galloping energy, stood there at the shore;
Their muscle flexed and zeal pulsated through the air

I searched for the disappearing dot through my tinted eyes;
emptiness of the sea, stared back, from the dusking sky

As the crowd swallowed me to follow the thrilled voices,
of the rugged men of the sea, standing tall, on their fishing boat

I stood there; a disappearing dot in the crowd;
discerning more than my tinted eyes could see.

The onlooker had something to say,
about the yellowness of the tulip
and the unbroken dew drop
on the lotus floating by

I flowered beside,
not more distinguished than any,
my sprouts, born with a name
not known, to admirers, many

My tiny florets blossomed,
each day the sun’s rays, graced earth
and showers moistened its soil.
I relished in my creations;

Until the day, I withered away,
when my roots left the soil
not charred in negligence
but in content, of living.

I crumble in fear,
a cold shiver shrivels up my spine,
as your names are yelled across the town.
Though I call you not the same;
Still I see no difference,
And yearn to respect every one of your child

The blood that rushes through my veins,
holds nothing sweet to the name I call;
The very skin and torso you made for me,
does not bear any sign that signals me apart
We brothers are all the same; But its war out there;
cutting the throat; that calls you unalike

I am dragged down to the dust,
beaten to the chill of my spine;
As the bloodshot eyes, holds no mercy,
I give up my physical being, hold no pain;
I understand; the heavy cuts on my flesh aren’t as deep
As the vengeance in those eyes.

The heart that pumps thousand drops of blood,
lies unaware of the name of the God I call;
As I lie strewn on the streets, on your name
I cry, ‘Why so many names you have, God’?
Why couldn’t you be the same, like the heart
that thumps in every man’s chest.