Saffron,
Dressed in saffron,
The pundit rubs vermillion
to the chaste
the warmth of the prayer
he passes onto them
he does not quiz their race
White,
Wearing his white frock
The priest walks slowly
Into the verandah of theists
Passing on the torch of light
And promises to keep
He retires from life
Green
The muezzin calls out while the maulvi awaits
who has been preserving the tradition,
And will perform the rituals, again, today
taking even the blame for the undone
squatting his legs, he lifts his hands and
hopes things will not remain the same
three colours symbolising different religion
embedded into a flag
lacerated with the charka
reminding us time and again
to be together 24 hours a day
then why do we separate them?
Why do we treat them different?
Hmm…
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