Workshop

I Feel Ashamed

  I feel ashamed,
I bury my face in my hand,
And I can't hold my head high.

So many people are dying,
So many people are getting killed,
So many people are burnt alive,
And so many people are running just to survive.
So many people are sacrificed
in the name of religion,
So many people are fighting furiously
in the name of religion,
And they don't even know what religion really means.
And how could it get resurrected if a temple is built?
But nobody cares, nobody understands.
And I ask myself, "Honestly, do I care?"
People do suffer, but it doesn't really affect me,
I am cool, as comfortable as I could be.
Miles away, I am sitting here comfortably in my chair;
Grumbling because my AC is not working,
Grumbling because my boss isn't really fair!

I really feel ashamed,
I bury my face in my hand,
And I can't hold my head high.

I feel I should help; I want to give it a try,
But I stumble as I move forward, and I realize this -
That I have been crippled by my own shackles,
I have been crippled by shackles of comforts,
I have been crippled by shackles of indifference.
I lean against the wall with my shackles, standing helplessly,
With all my inertness, I glare in the void hopelessly.
And my impotence gets better of me,
I fetch myself a cup of coffee,
Then I pull a piece of paper, and scribble all this.
All words, glorified, innocuous words, they can't bring peace.
So much violence, fear, loss and pain,
And I don't have a teardrop in my eyes.
As indifferent, as inhuman as ever,
I pretend; I have never heard those cries.

I feel ashamed, I feel guilty,
I bury my face in my hand,
And I can't hold my head high.

18-Apr-2002

More by :  Manish Hatwalne

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