Delhi 2020

Delhi 2020

Here, in the chilly air of the morgue 
where the sharp smell of formaldehyde cuts through the odour of blood 
and the buzz of an overworked air conditioner drowns out the howls from without, 
they are finally equal. 
On cold concrete slabs they lie 
men of similar age who prayed to
dissimilar Gods in life, 
lie equal in death. 
Shot, stabbed, bludgeoned, it doesn’t matter now 
Sliced and sewn up after death 
they lie in perfect harmony, 
unseeing eyes behind lifeless lids stare 
at the futility of it all, 
amidst the wails of the living. 
Which God won,  I don’t know 
Do you?
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