1984, my dad came from India,
The first place he went was my home state California.
Back at home in India, there was a huge riot,
My mom was still there, but was scared and really quiet.
There were people getting killed and murdered on the streets,
And little kids who were getting beat
because of their religion, they’re Sikh just like me.
Why couldn’t those people just let us be?
The ones in need could not even be helped,
But instead, my loved ones became unhelped.
Ripping apart the poor innocent children,
All because they tried to be hidden.
Because we they were Sikh and not Muslim,
The amount that died 2 thousand is less than the sum.
Couldn’t say bye to their families, couldn’t even say Sat Sri Akal one last time,
Over the border, the innocent people tried to climb.
My dad was in California safe and sound,
But my mom in Punjab, India and surrounded all around,
My uncles and cousins who are now long lost.
If I started to count those we lost it would be more than dozens.
1984, the year that will always be remembered,
Because some that I knew were my innocent family members.
Killed violently and harshly losing the people we love,
All over the country of India, if only they raised above,
Of their wrong thinking and mistaken bad view on society,
Not knowing if your child was alive causing anxiety.
Children running away from their homes so they can live,
And they killed those who tried to help and give.
The Golden Temple was destroyed and wrecked,
They prayed Waheguru Waheguru, as they ran away and couldn’t reflect.
Those who were just like me that were Sikh,
Who were all just doing their own thing and all so unique.
Gone in a second of time,
For India, it was truly wartime.
No one realized what was coming until it happened and it was gone,
Not until many days after that they left us alone at dawn.
I pray for those families who lost more than me,
Who had a happy life until it was a harsh reality.
Everyone will always remember October 31, 1984,
When life was good but suddenly there was more.
The main goal to live and survive,
There was no other choice, but to death just dive.
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This Poems Story
In 1984, there was an attack in Punjab performed by Pakistani people against Sikh people. These are both religions in India, but the Sikh religion was tortured and killed due to their religious backgrounds. This poem is the story about that attack and riot from the perspective of a Sikh person.