One day a bludgeoned man will become a martyr –
A martyr for his people, and his people will swarm around his corpse, feeding on his blood;
His blood will fill their bellies and drive their thirst;
They will descend on other people and infect them with this germ:
This germ is called Hate

And the murdered Khasi will murder Bengalis,
The murdered Bengalis will murder Assamese,
The murdered Assamese will murder Muslims,
The murdered Muslims will murder Hindus,
The murdered Hindus will murder Pakistanis:
This germ is called Hate

And Fear will raise its head,
And touch every single ear and heart
And those hearts will pound violently –
Their beat, the beat of an unholy legion,
Hidden behind Righteousness;
And Fear will strangle Love;
Love will collapse under the weight
And be laid down alongside
Truth and Decency:
This germ is called Hate

And Hate never baulks, it never blinks:
It is like a fire that burns everyone in its path,
It is like a whisper that contorts itself from ear to ear
Shaping Men’s resolve and weapons;
And Men will hold their arms out, waiting for its brand:
For only Men can hate, not the animals that kill innocently nor the insects nor the snakes;
It moves only within our blood:
This germ called Hate