Tuesday, 16 December 2014

Rest in peace, Nirbhaya. We will not.

This poetry has been published in the anthology "She The Shakti" which can be purchased HERE!

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I can't say why - 
But have you not noticed too?

That,
Decembers...
These days..
They got colder
Colder than before
Colder than ever
colder in a different way?

It is a chill of another kind - 
Oh, it is! It is!


It pierces through you in your sleep
It travels down your spine; 
It makes you feel angry 
and helpless, 
Beyond, words can reach.

You shudder and you thank, 
Because you are alive, 
and because you could die!

And you cannot decide
To be selfish or to cry?
Or to turn your neck aside
And pretend it's still all well?

Perhaps, you can't think any more
Oh, so do I!

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But you cannot but still wonder
What if she never became
That legend, that name,
That crusader, as they say!

But then, she would still be
Sipping into hot coffee
On a chilly winter night
With friends, or just like that!

As her Mom would 
Perhaps,
Rub coconut oil to her hair
Or complain, like ours do,
When she'd get home late again!

Oh, trust her when she says,
She never asked for a new name!

But then, we gave her one!
So that we don't forget.
That -
We could still not decide
And, 
Still not find our way!

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"Rest in peace, Nirbhaya. We will not."

(In remembrance, Jyoti Singh Pandey.)

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