With dead insensitive souls everywhere,
The world has become a biggest morgue
Like nurses in hospitals don't get suffocated,
So the fishermen working on the fishing dock
A drunkard sleeping in the urine and sweats of his own
Doesn't mind to fall in Gutter or platform or foothpath
How can a butcher feel sorry for animals he kills?
As he has practiced daily to cut them with no mercy in heart.
No wonder we don't feel bad for the poverty around us,
No wonder we don't feel sad for the swines among us;
We don't feel sympathy for victims who get killed in violence;
As we have extended more a level of our tolerance
We have learned to ignore things which can shatter our heart;
To close our eyes and pretend like a blind; we have learned this art.
The regular pocking has gave our minds & souls anesthesia
We are the most insensitive people of the world; we the people of India