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
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,
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?