The first person account of Nathuram Godse. This poem is written based on the book, 'Me Nathuram Godse Boltoy' and the Last speech at trail. I do request you to read till the end and then judge the person and poem. Read it with an unbiased mind and then comment.
The day was like any other
Without any worry or any bother
The sun rose to a brighter day,
In the cold of January it was a welcome stay.
Jogging my way across the street,
I saw the pieces of shattered feet.
Families torn apart from their dear,
Happiness in eyes replaced by fear
"This is my land and not your,"
The crowd shouted all night
"Leave my region and keep it pure"
They cried with all their might.
The Gods were at war,
The religion killed afar,
I looked into eyes, fear
Mixed into water it rolled as tear.
Standing there I made a choice,
I had a guide as my inner voice,
For all those who died, someone must pay
On second thoughts, I realised there was no other way
If he shed his clothes for the needy
He must also feel their pain, brought by the greedy
I had to choose against my will,
Between my country and a nasty kill
Yes, I killed the Mahatma, to save him the shame,
I saved him from his people who misused his name
It was nothing personal, I hereby say
I chose to walk the divine way.
Three bullets in his chest closed his episode,
Smiling at me his eyes did close,
It was nothing personal, I still repeat,
I do not celebrate this woeful deed.
Someone had to do it, so I did,
Into his heart the bullets I feed.
It was nothing personal, I will always say,
Until the Lord takes my breath away.