You adventured to kill, but in the process, you too got killed,
And one wonders, who asked you to kill?
For if it wasn’t your teachers, and friends in college,
Your peers in places, your siblings and folks indoors,
And God in heaven,
Just who was it, who asked you to kill?
You shot so many in a bloody,
When someone had to shoot you in a scurry,
You stood for someone unknown,
Trusted him more than the known,
But was it for any holy throne?
To you sermons through social media mattered more,
And not the grace of Holy Text,
Nor the lineage of societal touch, that you chose to ignore,
You hallucinated, as if killing was the right path,
And the rest needed to be ignored.
And now when you’re gone,
Leaving behind a storm,
Son I had sent you there,
To conquer the storm, and not to create a storm.
Where the world was your oyster,
And so much was still there for you,
As you had hardly arrived,
To create capture and destroy,
But isn’t it sad my son,
That you only created the bloody killings,
Destroyed human values,
And, captured the Holy Grail.
And remember my son,
If all would start killing who will create,
And for you,
Without seeing the world,
Without feeling the world,
And without admiring the world,
You decided to slaughter the world,
So now remain unwept and unsung,
In your unrealized world,
While my slain sons and daughters shall rest with me in peace.
This is a tribute to all those killed in Dhaka terrorist attack. Most of the terrorists who struck here were young and from high families so then how did their values change so much in a short period of time that they created this mayhem?
By Kamlesh Tripathi
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