Two Hundred children were killed in a single week.

Is it a rumor for you?

Seven hundreds were bombed in a week.

Is it a creative tale for you?

All the neighboring countries are lightening

with the blaze of fire.

Is it a firework for you?

The plants hear their yelling!

You have ears,why are you silent?

The blind witness their stories!

You have eyes,why are you silent?

The paralyzed write their history!

You have hands,why are you silent?

The dumb raise their voices for the rights of Palestine!

You have mouth,why are you silent?

The healthcare,hospital full of patients—

turned into the graveyards of children,

the elderly,the pregnant women.

The blue colourful sky full of peace—

Turned dark with the cloud of dust,

the ashes of Palestinian deaths.

Yet,the rest Palestinians—roaming and screaming

like a hysteria patient madly

But,You're still silent—

Sitting with your enfolded knees,

Living a luxurious life with your family,

Enjoying the music in the morn and even.

I,a Rohingya,can only understand

how you are exactly confronting

the inhumane massacre of Israel

the unanswered silence of world

But, I still stands with Palestine

To raise my voices against the genocide perpetrator

I still stands with Palestine

To hold every criminal accountable.

Why are you still silent?

Where Is My Home?

We, Rohingya, stepped on firm 

Proudly naming the region “Arakan”  

We are the ancestors and the owners 

The chest of Arakan belongs to us. 

In 2017, the storm  was blown against us. 

And that turned our villages into graveyards  

Where—the ashes of our slaughtered children  

No bodies left except the chains 

We  were driven out from our homeland. 

Where is my Home, oh man?  

Under the shadow of the foreign centers,  

Some suffer in silence while others feel tragic.  

Under the shadow of the tarpaulin shelters, 

Some dwell in hell while others live traumatic.  

Where we witness the nightmares in deep.  

Now, where is my home to sleep?  

In the other’s land,  

Our children’s dreams— 

To put on the regalia of a Doctor  

To earn the certificate of an Engineer  

To reach the door of a Lawyer  

Yet, their dreams remain as a hope 

Because, there’s nothing to call Home.  

However, 

Game ain’t over—watch our fire rise,   

From ash, the rooster screams toward the skies.   

One day, we’ll summit Everest’s spine,   

Plant our flag where the sun dawns divine.   

One day, light’ll burst through the cracks,   

Peace blazing wild on freedom’s tracks.   

Warriors climb, mountains bow—   

Our home’s coming. Hear the rhythm now.