Rosmin Elsa Mohan (21st December / New Delhi)
They cried, yet, without a tear,
They lived, yet, in profound fear,
They loved, you and me, so tenderly dear,
Yet, they were wounded.
I remember hearing one make a sound..
She was being pulled, there were men all around..
The cacophony of laughter buried her cry.
As her nerves ripped, the earth turned dry.
She too had a bond, which broke so wry
Meek sparrows which lost their space,
Timid ants those searched for a trace.
I remember seeing once a desert in a dream,
Close to reality, I wish I could scream.
She left behind a mark, I wished those men did see,
Trivial for them, though, ‘twas yet another tree..
Futile again on those ears so deaf..
Running behind time, yearning for heights,
Raising a toast to death herself.
I took to an offspring, never thinking too long,
Placing him beside his mother's grave,
I wanted him tall, more big, more strong,
His head swayed fort, yet, intensely naïve.
I heard the breeze hum a solemn hail,
As I searched around for a nourishing pail,
The gods though had granted a boon,
For the deed; they never did expect so soon.
I looked at the sky.
It had started to pour.
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