Gandhi has died,

Away from too much human haunt and habitation.Archetypal, ethnic, racial, primitive and aboriginal,Stands it thereonUnder the peepul tree, the banyan tree.Dark and poor, backward and undeveloped, it tellsThe tales of human hunger, poverty, scarcity and want,A hard life it is difficult to pass indeed.

LettersLiterary letters.Tended off byManiac poetsFrenzied,Writing poetry madly.Bringing to memoryKeats,Lawrence,Anglo-maniac Michael Madhusudan.

Can anybody tell meThe reason for her sadnessShe wears upon?A daughterSo sad and sombre,Why is she sad,Can anybody tell meThe reason of her sadness?What has happened to her,Can anybodyWhat it ails her,My daughter?

Writing haiku.The haikuOn his mind,Heart and soul.He in haikuAnd the haiku in himCannot help without.

The sweet memories of the past?How roamed and rambled IWithout care and worry,Anxiety and fear freely?A small girl was I,A small daughter,How loving and free?But with a tinge of pain in my heartRemember I,Remember I that recollecting, reminiscing.My childhood, childish daysWhen I had been,Had been a small and loving girl affectionate to all.

Why does it take place,Has man no hand in it,Does it on chance, situation, circumstance?Accident,Why does it take place,Who is responsible forAnd who should be blamed for,For whose faultDid it happen, occur it,Who solely responsible?Accident,How does it take place,For whose fault,Why it all,Has it to happenAnd who should it be held responsible for that?