Who Will Fly Us This Time?
Gaurav Ojha
Winds howl from the north
Hurricanes rumble from the south
As the butterfly flutters in some la-la land
Thunder and lightning turn their havoc on
What gets triggered cannot be undone
Anger fuels the fire and lets it burn
There are traitors among us
Hiding within the crowds
They told us to pick up stones
To wound our own heads
After those flames and smokes
We were only left with the ashes to recollected
Is there a spark left to reignite?
Has the experiment failed?
Are we getting dumped into the dustbin again?
What if another storm is coming?
Carrying the gush of dishonesty and despair
What would happen to our freedom?
As the soft rain washes young blood from the street
Do they even know why they have died?
What kind of burden do they want us to carry?
Are we the sheep as we were?
In between old and new
What about those rebellions
Where wretches were sacrificed in the feast
Prepared by jackals for their wolf
The lion kept on roaring from the zoo
But the master knew how to keep his dogs happy with bones
Everything changed for the same thing to return
Can the Lucifer restore glory to this lost Shangri-La?
What if his dark glasses can’t find the vision?
Will the clown get up and perform on the stage again?
Jokers are ready to follow in the footsteps
Our red stars have fallen cold
And the sun doesn’t even have its shadows
But the bells of the temple are bustling
After the ritual of fire, smoke, ashes and sacrifice
Are we still searching for the way from one hell to another?
Who will find our golden calf that has gone astray?
For a nation without ideals
Grass remains green on the other side.
Beggars have no choice, they say
Like a kite hovering over an unknown horizon
What a monstrous torture
Who will fly us this time?
Oh! Generation of fire and zeal
Don’t let them crawl back
With the promises that resemble a hoax
Revolutions where pawns die for their savior
Listen to what they don’t say
Say what? They don’t want to listen
To the kings, queens, and those who remain unspoken
With their enchanters and bandwagons
Horses, donkeys, camels and ministers
They will weave their magic, play out their tricks
But don’t let them turn your hopes
Into just another circus
(Gaurav Ojha is a faculty member specializing in communication, critical thinking, management, and research at various educational institutions in the Kathmandu Valley. As part of his creative pursuits, Mr. Ojha regularly publishes opinion pieces, poems, and non-fiction articles covering a wide range of topics, including death, disease, social issues, humanism, and spirituality.)