Map Makers! The new video game
in town is here. To play Map Makers
the Rulers have stencils and erasers.
Also permanent markers. Plus all
baton-wielding forces their side.
Who knows if things go really awry.
The opposition team has brushes,
colors, and a few pencils to write
with. Plus, they are singing loud,
playing the drum, dotara, flutes.
Who knows if the batons strike
their heads. It's better to fall down
while singing. The video game will
last as long as the two teams last
and it's not 'half-time' yet on the floor.
But already there's gore all around.
Every time Rulers charge and seal
maps, the effing opposition paints
over the lines, the barriers, borders.
They break through with their songs.
With fractured hands, blinded eyes.
Rulers want game up to 1-0 now.
But how! Colors deluge the blood,
more music hits batons back. More
the maps are drawn, more they blur.
Rulers play in fury. The opposition
chants: snuff it off! New game on.
(This poem is written in response to the ruthless police action against students of Jamia Millia Islamia, Aligarh Muslim University, and countless others all over the country in the wake of recent protests against the CAA and NRC proposed by the current ruling party of India.)
