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Here’s a poem of protest and hope, by Neelam, in Different Truths.

When you can rather speak than
soil your feet halfway through
let your voice be heard
without angst and hurt.
When the eyes can see
what one should believe in
stars against the backdrop of buildings,
treading through serpentine paths.
The joy of breeze, rain
won't ever be over,
won't ever be soot,
and something more. 

Picture Design Anumita Roy, Different Truths


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