A call at the eleventh hour
Everyone’s running
Doctor out of his clinic
Teacher from her school
Designers fled from her boutique
Students bunking his class
Shopkeepers leaving his shop
Engineers out of their site
Homemakers in a rush
Everyone’s running
All in unison
In Love of Doon
In love of the trees.
Enemy stands tall
With axe’s lifted high
With saw’s in motion
With letters of approval
For a beastly deed
They all are confident
The trees are costly
Money’s around the corner.
Everyone’s together
All high in spirits
The orders are genuine
There’s some agitation
Some vague justification
The beasts are immovable
But the warriors are resolute
They sing of brutality against trees
They sing of green massacre
There is a standstill
They are neither giant
Nor armed
But the spark in their eyes
Their dauntless courage
Against the wrong done
Drives their soul
They snatch the axes’
And the saws’
They sing of green present
They sing of green future.
A call at the eleventh hour
Will reunite them
In love of Doon
In love of the trees
In fact, to save the trees
To save Doon.
