Charge Sheet

i have no idea
whose bullet pierced my tnder flesh
forcing me collapse on the ground
with blood gushing out
from the hole it made in my body.

bullets don’t always carry
names of those who shoot,
nor they let you feel touch of the finger
that pulled the trigger.

it is always a nameless bullet
piercing through the burning chest
and clear head of a nameless existence.

do you have an idea
who could have shot atme and why?
a terrorist?
a fundamentalist?
or a maniac?

but why should a terrorist kill me?
terrorists kill those who terrorize them
and fundamentalists shoot those
who challenge their very fundamentals.

why no one is claiming responsibility
why civilization is silent and history dumb?
where are conscience and lofty ideals
of human diginity, morality and all good
that are boasting civilized philosophy
doesn’t fail to talk about
vehemently and uninterruptedly?

who should i blame of my murder?
perhapes no one but myself.
yes, iblame blame myself,
chargesheet myself for my own murder,
for continue to live namelessly and
in constant fear with stooped head and shoulders,
for pretending to be tongue-tied,
failin to feel the pulse of time
and not reading what was
writ large on the glowing forehead of history,
for not knowing my worth...my power, always
looking towards sky for miracles..
but miracles were not far away,
they were at arms length of
my resilience, resistance, and rancour..

now i know
i really deserved that bullet
and always will till i......