THE SUICIDE BOMBER

I wrote this Poem around the Anniversary of the 7/11 Serial Bomb Blasts in our Mumbai Local trains. I share the horror and futility of that moment of violence.

THE SUICIDE BOMBER
Treacherous men,
huddled together,
planning Death,
with far more
precision and
as much conviction,
as they would, Life.

Bodies tangled,
dismembered,
beseeching arms,
still beseeching,
detached, scattered.
Pair-less slippers
strewn, midst headless
torsos, mangled,
shocked eyes, staring
from severed heads,
torn flesh protruding,
convoluted steel,
still burning.
Bandra Local coach,
.... A Carcass.
Consuming stench
of burning death.

Somebody's spectacles,
strangely intact,
scratch-proof lenses,
shining brazenly,
surreal midst
shattered glass.

Unsuspecting eye,
lying on bloody
platform staring,
frozen disbelief...
all that remains
of home-bound,
loved one...
Never to return.

Knowing eye,
one foot away...
smug content...
Mission well
Accomplished...
Perfectly executed.

Knowing eye, lying
there in the dust,
Alone.... Nameless...
all that remains,
of Someone's
misled Son,
united in death with
those he'd slaughtered....
their blood coagulating
with his own !
- Sabina Benjamin Thomas
(12t

Story ID:	2984
Written by:	Sabina Benjamin Thomas (bio, other stories)
Story type:	Poem
Location:	Mumbai Maharashtra India
Year:	2007