Her children were brutally hacked to death.
Her parent’s were buried alive in the farm.
Her neighborhood, they turned that into a grave.
Her cattle’s, they were slaughtered and left
all along the barren banks of river Bagmati
for the vultures offspring to munch on and on.
Her husband became mad first and then died crying
with tears pouring from every crease of his heart,
as a loss in the family was too much for him
to digest, tortured by anxiety, it paralyzed him,
and reduced his general physical mental stamina to live.
She was silent, silent as the morning’s gleam, for a while,
and then she began to smile, she smiled and she smiled.
Then she laughed, laughed, and laughed as the funeral pyre.
The very structure of her body trembled with shock;
but she kept on laughing, and she kept on laughing
on and on, until her laughter wept, and drowned her soul.
Then they took her eyes out, and tossed them in the air,
they then pierced her heart into pieces, threw them
amongst the jackals disguised as men, and danced
around her corpse singing the revolutionary songs
- the canon law of the Maoists, “If you agree with us,
then you are our friend, but if you refute, then you are
our number one foe………the first head in our hit list.”


Copyright 2007 Bhuwan Thapaliya