In the Aftermath

The mosque was eloquent History,

Everything else was shrouded in mythology.

Yet they, under the spell of fiery oratory,

Chose to chase the mirage of a myth,

Pull down the building

And build hatred in their hearts

When I, a citizen of this vast land

With the pulsating impulse of History behind me,

Watched helplessly in speechless agony

My dreams lie shattered,

My country split

And its future back to the tribal past.

I know not how to atone for my immoral silence

For History shall not forgive me.

S.C.