People are increasingly becoming small, self-centred and conceited. Here’s a protest poem by Aprajita, a take on social issue, in Different Truths.
Ghastly screech travelled through my porous walls last night
My neighbour’s daughter was a victim of plight
A testosterone volcano forced his way into her innocence
And cadaverised her cheerfulness of life.
A brief wince shook me
And then an impulsive gratitude spoke aloud
‘Thanks Heaven, I do not have to taste that despair’
My windows caught a look of her pale shocked face
Those eyes reflected naked fear and pain
I drew a curtain of blind before I could break my inertia
And I spoke aloud
‘Lucky I am that I do not have to reflect that despair’
When medical aid took her the next morning
I stood with the flock
And wore a mask of care and concern
While my heart rejoiced
‘Fortunate me, I do not have to travel in that white van’
The shriek reverberated in my mind
My guilt mocked me loud
My consciousness battled my veil of security
And I said a prayer
‘Mercy, it’s not me out there’
Tomorrow I might be the one gasping for breath of help
And blind inertia might not be a succour
But God forbid that sigh
I need not despair
I pre-thank the heaven it is not me out there.
Picture design Anumita Roy
Aprajita Gupta hails from Shimla, India. She is currently pursuing Ph.D. in Systems Biology and Bioinformatics from Punjab University, Chandigarh, India. She has a passion for research work and interplay of words. She is a tenderfoot versifier and aspires for excellence.
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