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That Sinful Saturday
That sinful Saturday A play of the nature But couldn’t become pleasant To the humans. Limitless possibilities That couldn’t remain in the earth’s belly Burst out But that sinful Saturday Yasodha did not give birth to Krishna Like Kauravas The waves of the earthquake turned disastrous To my fellow people. A few drops of tears The inevitable aching And the labour pain A mother gives birth to a divine son But that sinful Saturday Death knocked all the hearts Or, the Himalayan tree called Nepal Produced nothing but death. I can’t call it a death crop But that play of yours Probably is a divine apocalypse To transform my fellow people From sin to religiosity On that sinful Saturday! Killing my brothers and friends That sinful Saturday Left behind tears and the cries But I didn’t want to call you a sinner Because I’m aware This cycle of nature continues Yesterday, today and tomorrow O Earth, do tell me Did that labour pain of yours Give birth to a brave son In my country, of my faith? Your labour pain Has continued in the nature since time immemorial In my country that lacks a divine son Tell me O God! On that sinful Saturday Did Yasodha give birth to Krishna?
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