trains ripped apart
mangled bodies
headless torsos
and severed limbs;
blood-soaked platforms
strewn with wallets and I.D.s,
a hand-bag pouring out its heart,
a chappal waiting for its wearer.
We gazed, forgetting to breathe
asking 'Is this the apocalypse?.
Or some holocaust?'
Fear turned to dread
and in despair we invoked God's name,
but the heavens looked on
impassively as rain and darkness
covered the horrofic sight.
(This poem was written shortly after the Mumbai train blasts. It has been published in a couple of magazines.)
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