The Suicide

** This is a little bit  political issue playing role. And I realise I have the freedom to express my opinions, my fears, and my wishes. So I hope, no one takes it personally**
Once upon a time in a place full of green,
There lived a queen with no king.
Each can exist without the other one,
Cause the whites ruled the place once, and they too followed the same tradition.

The minds of its people were as beautiful as the green farmlands.
The mouths of them were as quick as their firm hands.
They loved their country more than their own wives.
They fought against injustice, having no fear of their own lives.

Existence of a leader is hard in places like these,
As they become subjects of constant analysis.
Some stayed, some went, none of them remained forever.
People kept on living their lives, blaming fake promises and endeavours.

And then with a sudden rise of concern for women.
They started taking control of every men’s den.
Only one left was this revolting, bloody land.
Sadly or happily, the place slowly slipped out of men’s jealous hands.

The fate of this land was bounded by so many conditions.
Conditions studied and judged by millions of professors.
But they failed to understand that,
When you press a river from both sides,
The river will dry up, and any progress of it would be hard to find.

But water is a fluid, it slowly overcame its boundaries,
So did people’s mind, it threw away all past theories.
It welcomed the new path, whose destination is unseen,
And with huge ceremony, they got their first queen.

She said,”we will bring about a change,
And we seek a necessary revenge
Against all those who intentionally dried up this land.
Now new trees will rise, as power is in my hands.”

Trees did rose, but on the abandoned lands of factories,
Change did came, but in their whims and fancies.
As oratory controlled and swayed the innocent minds of poor,
Muscles and fear controlled the pockets of unpoor.

Structures left unbuilt, for years after years,
Media were trembling, with pens wrapped in fear,
Graduates roamed jobless, and bearing family burden alone,
Outsiders felt sorry for them, and mused about their pride, long gone.

Some thought, as usual she will leave soon.
But now, it’s not usual, God of change had gave them this boon,
She kept on ruling, forever and ever,
Chances did came, but the intellectuals chose to suffer.

As I’m writing, the television is on
The pics and vidoes of this barren land-cum-warzone is shown.
Mothers now tell their sons the story of Bengal,
And end up with morale,”Don’t think too much about yourselves, or you will suffer this giant fall”

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