Speak Up

I should have shouted, how come I still didn’t speak? How in this street of reticent, my answers would actually seek? My tongue is still intact, words still my own They attacked our home, why haven’t I right to moan? Ask us what is meant by horror, the true meaning of fear Hearing innocents’ sobs and brutal blasts, inhumanity seemed everywhere. Students were beaten, buildings ravaged, our university’s soul was killed The scars on us were deep enough, which soon can’t be filled. Call us whimsical, strayed or wrong; the revolutionary ship journey is now on We’ll ourselves become oars and sail to shore, even if everyone has gone. Yesterday they, today us, if still you have nothing to say, Tomorrow it will be you, and no one will be there for you to pray. Aashish Kochhar

 

I should have shouted, how come I still didn’t speak?

How in this street of reticent, my answers would actually seek?

My tongue is still intact, words still my own

They attacked our home, why haven’t I right to moan?

Ask us what is meant by horror, the true meaning of fear

Hearing innocents’ sobs and brutal blasts, inhumanity seemed everywhere.

Students were beaten, buildings ravaged, our university’s soul was killed

The scars on us were deep enough, which soon can’t be filled.

Call us whimsical, strayed or wrong; the revolutionary ship journey is now on

We’ll ourselves become oars and sail to shore, even if everyone has gone.

Yesterday they, today us, if still you have nothing to say,

Tomorrow it will be you, and no one will be there for you to pray.

Aashish Kochhar