Whither Gods ?

Not to be found openly grieving,
taciturn and stoic as he was, he bit his lips
until scarlet spread randomly on its moisture.

His senses screaming, he  watched them lower
his boy from the tree's sagging branch from which
the mob had hanged him, his feet still bound

and his school shirt torn. Had both Gods forsaken him?
He prayed to one and his wife to another.
Where were They when his son had suffered?

He felt the angry welts on his son's neck.
They seemed to mock at his beliefs and prayers,
at the murmured presence of namaz and shlokas

in his house. The boy was an innocent bystander,
the amorphous crowd whispered in hushed tones,
adding burning agony to his unbearable grief.

In bitterness, he vowed never to pray.
His irreplaceable loss, he knew,  would become
just statistics in tomorrow's insensitive newspaper.

The light of the sodium vapour lamp cast
an eerie blanket over the young body.
A stray dog lifted its leg near the lamp post.
The tree stood abloom.

~ Krishna ~
19. March 2002

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