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Echoes of Injustice: A Haunting Tribute to a Tragedy

Solemn whispers
from parched lips
haunt a city’s sleep.
Dingy walls still echo
the syllables of justice,
vandalised—
then whitewashed in the aftermath of renovation.

A forgotten soldier
waits for the clarion call
as my city drowns in oblivion.
A mother lights a lamp
on a cracked sill,
watching shadows stretch like unanswered prayers

Another year rolls by
Another file gathers dust
Eagles cut across the grey sky’s bosom,
prey clutched in their beaks.

The sun rises
on blood-stained roofs,
on forgotten promises,
on shoulders wrought with the burden of murderous hands

Rainwater fills the gutters
of a city that once claimed the night.
And I write—
not to remember—
but because forgetting
is a luxury
we cannot afford.

Note: On August 9, 2025, we mark a year since the gruesome Tilottama incident that shook the nation. This poem is a tribute to the soul who still waits for justice.

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