One more day,
For the Almighty,
One more day,
Without the littlest morsel,
And, the cumulative thirst for water.
The night was serene,
With the preparation of Sehri all around,
And prayers flew nonchalantly,
Without a fear, without any stress,
That the next day would be even better.
Rice cooked in Rose-water,
With the spices covering the meat,
Oh, how tranquil the night was,
No one did ever bleat.
Men clad in white Kurtas,
And beautifully woven Fezes,
Women garmented in their burkhas,
With their children and their messes.
But short lived,
Were their smiles,
When seven militants fiendishly opened fire on them.
“Abbu, Ammi!”, the juveniles cried,
The bullets wounded their parents,
And they succinctly died.
They threw bombs,
And took hostages,
Killed civilians and policemen,
Proved, that they were utter savages.
“Allahu Akbar”, they shouted,
Claimed, “God is great”,
Little did they know,
That Allah cried,
And that, he would be deciding their fate.
Oh, that for once had they read the Quran,
Oh, that little had they known the Quran,
Could have escaped this infamy of being depraved.
No point being sorry, feeling sad,
That they’ve been misled.
Christians, and Jews,
All have condemned them.
They went in search of Jannat,
But chose the wrong way.
This is from an atheist,
To the bereaved,
Hold on, you people.
The world may not talk about you,
But someone will solve every problem.
Hold on, you people,
There will be a progress,
From dissonance, to consonance.
With you, Bangladesh.