In the Name of Life

It was a June morning,
Playing we were in the courtyard,
Paying no attention,
To people walking by.

We were busy, pulling each other,
Giggling and laughing,
Rearing to go,
For a long journey.

Till we heard a cry,
And then a shot,
Someone was moaning,
Just outside our door.

We were terrified,
Pulled by our mother,
Brought inside the house,
To be told to not to cry.

We saw blood,
Dark, red blood,
Spread on the road, just next door,
Someone was shot,
But who he was?

Horrified, eyes wide open,
We asked her,
'Ma, where is our dad?'
She said, "Nothing to worry,
He is alright".

So someone was killed again,
In the streets of Kashmir,
In the name of freedom,
Some soul was shown the exit door.

But, who was the man?
After debates and discussions,
We reached to the conclusion,
It must be the poor coolie,
Who was pulling our luggage.

So, we started playing again,
Waiting to be told,
To pick up our bags,
And jump into the car.

As hours passed by,
Impatience crawled in,
We saw him,
Wasting time in the neighbourhood,
Chatting with some policeman.

Why was he still there,
We all wondered,
We again opened the window
To the road,
Where we were told,
"Professor Sir is no more!"

They had killed my grandfather,
Who had just brought the food,
Hoping he would come back soon,
To the valley, that was his home.

He was wrong, he died there,
In the name of freedom,
We survived,
In the name of life.