How Forgetful Are They

By Nehida Parayil

When I look around,

I'm at loss,

Are our minds sound,

To let all this pass.

Taught from young,

To not let history repeat,

Who were hung,

Now hang those in retreat,

Those who were persecuted,

Now are the persecutors.

Those who fought for freedom,

Now oppress the right in own kingdom.

How forgetful are they,

Of what came in their way,

Decades ago when they were shackled,

Whipped around worse than cattle,

Ousted from homes as oppressors cackled,

When they didn't get a chance to battle,

For freedom or a say.

Their forefathers got a new ray,

Peace and settlements prized,

And years gone by.

Now they seem to have forgot,

How it was,

So bad it could be,

How can they do same,

When will the demons in them tame,

So the angels can put out the flames,

And end these bloody games.

What do you gain,

Except persistent stain,

Blood, flesh and bones,

Now etched in stones.

How forgetful are they,

Of what is coming their way,

When they dismember into soil,

For which, so hard they toil,

By shedding blood.

Where all differences cease,

Between them and others,

When all that would save,

Is goodness, even a piece.

Here or the Hereafter,

Retribution remains,

For all the lives you shatter,

Answerable you remain.

By Nehida Parayil