Why shall we call- this- a religion?
Where a woman is still behind the latched door,
And children are taught to hate!
Don’t ask them to cut their veins,
For their bloods ain’t red, anymore!
A worn out man of skin and bones won’t take their eyes!
For they rush to stand first in a row!
Thousands of coins will flicker in the donation box!
And portentously, they advertise their sold-faith…
Wonder which God, they know!
Still, few do exist, who rely on the tranquility!
They trust, for their God lies within…
Under their battered hut, faith has no limit!
No pomp and show, to prove their love…
In the sweat of their toils, His existence can be seen!
What's wrong, if in his hamlet rings that bell...
And she kneels on that prayer rug...
And they are the choir, for the prayers meet...
What's wrong, if they love this peace...
Children of this human play together and hug!
Let the religions carved by the fellow preachers!
Divide no humanity on this earth!
God must be observing the irony, we are in!
Religion of no caste and of no creed…
Sanjeeta Sharma Pokharel “Hridayaninadini”
19th July, 2013-IISc-14:20-NGH-702-India