I’m fixed, unmoving, a waking-dying menace
ruining the streets of this nation with my patriotism.
A saffron-scented scream, peel the layers back
find in its depths the retaliation for our love, for
there is no greater evil than the need for peace
in their eyes
we are vile
we remain
unmoving
fixed like the
North Star
because we know
our destination
and they cremate the remains of our love, say
education is for the privileged few who found wealth
in this search called life. It’s not a philosophical argument
I’m just saying, why do you ask us to leave the country
when we demand our constitutional rights
the sky white
with tears
reflected off
the ground
the depth
of our emotions
sinking with
each blow,
everybone broken,
every voice unheard.
In scattered dreams we find something blue encircling the
protestors like a shark with batons in their arms, a blood-prize
for blood-money: find cafes overrun with children hiding and
adult-sized uniforms seeking them out, a sudden reversal –
weren’t our aspirations to be chasing after them with open arms…
Soon the Earth will turn green. You will find us buried in the ground
and we will sprout with a fury that contests the zealousness that shrouds
your fascist mentality. There – I’ve spelt it out now; I know
we have to use our ABC’s, since you remain without any words.
***
Madras Courier originally ran as a broadsheet with a poetry section. It was a time when readers felt comfortable sharing glimpses of their lives through verse. If you have a poem you’d like to submit, do email us at editor@madrascourier.com.
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