Santhosh's ramblings

How many roads must a man walk down Before you call him a man? How many seas must a white dove sail Before she sleeps in the sand? Yes, and how many times must the cannonballs fly Before they're forever banned? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind Yes, and how many years must a mountain exist Before it is washed to the sea? And how many years can some people exist Before they're allowed to be free? Yes, and how many times can a man turn his head And pretend that he just doesn't see? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind Yes, and how many times must a man look up Before he can see the sky? And how many ears must one man have Before he can hear people cry? Yes, and how many deaths will it take 'til he knows That too many people have died? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind   Bob Dylan   We shall overcome, we shall overco

 Don’t cry for me my mother The mother of my motherland  The mother of democracy Mother who has forgotten her children  I was once like my siblings  Today I am to be abused and beaten  My sisters raped and dishonoured By my siblings with your silent consent  You who tell your children  Stories that are new to us Stories that create enmity To dehumanise some of your own Don’t cry for me, with your crocodile tears Tears shed to promote  A falsehood that is evident to us But camouflaged to others  The tears of our pain seems in futile But our tears of pain are heard By the mother land and her Creator Tears that will not be wasted   We know truth will prevail  Truth will set us free Truth that will rise  From the margins of motherland Uprooting the falsehood  Changing crocodile tears Into tears of compassion and empathy  Or blown away by the torrent of tears We wait for that day….