Leaders come and go,
Prophets come and go,
Even God incarnates again and again,
It is the humanity that I am worried about.
Seasons change as the Fall or the Spring,
Youth is not granted forever and ever,
Those drunken with grief or ecstasy,
Shall not compromise decency forever.
I naively strolled out of my university hostel,
And landed in a historic museum behind the forest,
And entered with curiosity, waiting in line,
Not knowing, I had entered Buchenwald concentration camp.
I did not read histories like you did,
Or sociology or politics for that matter.
As a student of Sanskrit,
All I knew was Bhartrhari and Madhusudana.
I woke up that night being chased by shadows,
Dragging me to the enclosure.
I was bleeding and crying,
Oh horror, that lasted for days and months.
My friends, you have won,
You have my congratulations,
Just pause for a minute,
And rethink your victory.