Frigid, immobile, thoughtless br Steaming enmity in their memory br Thousands killed many raped br And few were slaved of the tyranny br Forgotten was me by people to walk across br For they were all asleep in the arms of their beloved br all drenched in their soaring egos br br no one ever geared up br to drink a wine of love br May be perhaps, I may not be! br As sweet as the old wine of enmity br Or perhaps they could not forget br Offend of their sluttish memory br br I wait there, a lonely figure! br With the optimism for future br Rebuilding, not a memory br Or a history but a story br For the future next to readbr br kalpana shahbr br