• Two Poems

    Poile Sengupta

    December 16, 2019

     

    Image Courtesy: Indian Express

    Kathua Unnao and My Beloved Country

    The dawn breaks as soundlessly
    as the cries of an eight year old
    tortured ripped apart where once
    was heard the chants of prayer.

    No one will worship here again,
    Or will they?

    The violators stalk our land their
    organ of power inflated
    to monstrous size.

    Who would have thought that small body
    had so little blood in her?

    The day axed out from time splatters
    the sky red as the scream
    of a thousand fleeing birds hangs
    suspended
    unheard
    as always.

     

    On Gauri

    I wore clothes that were not like theirs so they stripped me naked.
    My food was not the same as theirs
    So they set alight my larder.

    I spoke words not in their faith
    So they shredded my tongue.
    I railed against thin minds

    My hands bled as I pulled out the thorns of division
    I cried for expanse. But they turned on me
    They hated sharing my sky
    To read my dictionary of beliefs.

    They murdered my thoughts,
    My words,
    They exterminated me.

    Somewhere they must be laughing now
    At their victory
    Toasting my death….

    Do they think they have silenced forever
    All who like me believe
    In the gentle rationale of rain?


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