I may not understand our gods of whom I was
born – we may not share altars, mine is a simple stance,
very little incense, except the aroma of our need ,for a blessed India;
there is much I do not know, but the face of my god is the image
of you my brother – fighting wars, for each other.
What went wrong, why is there no definition of evil, why
must we fight each others’ caste and creed ? I cannot seem
to decipher, all I know is, what is left of today,
is what matters.
What remains, is my offering on this altar :
what we leave for our children, yours and mine,
(from Naked Prayers)