Sixty Hours

Sixty Hours

Smoke, blasts, billowing clouds Billowing curtains from carved windows The railway station now also has it's widows. The city, in a daze, unable to grasp Daily life has stopped; now suddenly Mumbai, in a stupor tries to awake from This nightmare without an end. One dawn, many down. Second dawn, many down Third dawn, day has come What will this city become? Sixty hours of tears, fears and passion Sixty hours of waiting, hoping for compassion The rat-tat-tat carries on, carries on The loved ones have go on to become Victims, heroes, or statistics When the day is finally, Finally and irrevoccably done. Cry, city, cry Shed your lonely tears on the beach Sixty hours, and your loved ones Are far beyond your reach. In this dying we are all one In tragedy we are all one. Now our day is finally, with sad finality, done. Copyright: Rani Turton 26, 27, 28 November 2008 Dedicated in hommage to the victims and those who who gave their lives to protect the city.