With the explosions
reaching nearer and nearer
with explosions piercing
our ears intermittently
we were left with
no other alternatives
except to flee for life
leaving our belongings
then and there.
Looking for a safe place
we covered hundreds of miles.
And
after a number of days we
reached the outskirts
of a neighbouring country
tired, devastated disheartened and frightened we were.
Like any other refugees
who had pitched their
tents before our arrival
we too pitched a tent nearby.
Hunger was taking our toll
resulting in the
death
of a few of our near and dear
on the way
what we were badly missing was
at least a square meal once in a while
if not daily.
After pitching our tent
we could hear with fear
the loud but compassionate sounds of
helicopters flying above our heads
dropping food packets.
We could see from inside our tents
refugees in other tents coming out
and fighting for the food packets
like stray dogs fighting for a crumb of bones.
Hunger doesn’t
have caste, creed and religion.
Hunger knows not the
meaning of love, friendship or compassion.
After finding out the reason behind
the crawling out of
the refugees from
their tents in hundreds
we too started sitting with our
ears glued to the ground
for the occasional arrival of helicopters
with food packets.
We too started
fighting with other refugees
for at least a food packet to
satiate our hunger.
We hate our government like anything
we hate our enemies - the militants
who are bent upon ousting the
autocrat ruling our country.
What we need is peace
What we dream is peace
What we want to lead
is a peaceful life with at least a square meal a day
which are eluding us.
Instead of that
what we undergo are a chain of nightmares.
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