Drowned in Fire

I took a matchstick in my hand
and lit Iqbal's tommorow.
Then I touched it to Rafik's life...
and it went crackling
bursting, blazing with Zaaheer, Junaid, Mahmood
and many others in a row...

A sparkler I lit from a candle
and sparks of Naseer from it rained .
Whizzed a firewheel or zameen chakri
when Maqsood's life did end.

The sky filled up with golden colours
as Imtiaz's lungs choked
And loud explosions froze hearts for a second
after Akbar's sprout of blood on a packet of 'Volcano'es soaked.

The flower pot reached unattained heights
because I thrust gunpowder up Altaf's nose.
Lost was the school of Mohammad Kasim in it
when the smoke from the snake pellets rose.

With content utmost I looked around
to see the the festive glory.
And saw many children jump in pool of fire
to never return to tell their story.....

Dedicated to the child labourers in Sivakasi making crackers for other children of same age as of theirs to enjoy.