He would like to to dance on bits,
He would like to sketch his imagination,
But He can't do it any more...
Ismile Ali helpless now...
He won't be able to catch the hands of mom,
Won't be able to hug her like erstwhile,
when he feel hungry, He won't be able to rush her
And pull her hand with request of meal..
What he can do now is to just feel...
His small hands have been slashed by The war,
He has lost feet and paid as a cost of war,
No more his innocent childhood remains with him,
Now his own world is not his hand...
He won't be able to make his life by his hand..
What can he do is, just watching
with grieved eyes and hopeless mind,
He feel like others burden..
War has made his life barren..
Now, a mere witness is Ismile Ali..
How Helpless is Ismile Ali..
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This Poem is dedicated to a 12 year old child from Iraq, who lost both his hands and legs during bombing on his town. It was written originally in Hindi on 18 April 2003.
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