Dust

I had died three hundred and thirty three times
Till my body finally gave in
Ten times on the last day itself
First when I woke up in the morning
And did not find my son sleeping beside me
Second when I found him wrestling with a barbed wire
Trying to reclaim his playground and his childhood
Third when I carried him back to the house
And found no food to feed his starved body
Fourth when I heard gunshots in the distance
And knew my neighbor's' house had been pierced
Fifth when the ground beneath us shook
As if possessed by the jinns we heard of in tales
Sixth when screams were drowned out by sirens
Of foreign airplanes hovering in the hollow sky
Seventh when it was announced that
There would be some collateral damage
Eighth when I found no words to explain to my son

That the complicated term meant we’d have to die for peace
Ninth when I looked towards the heaven
And found no God to pray to
And finally tenth, when my breath gave in
And my bones melted like snow
I felt no pain, none at all
For I had died three hundred and thirty three times already
Till my body finally became dust, like the rest of my homeland.
@shruti_writes

If my words

If my words
Could replace the silence
Of every little girl
Whose scream was muffled
By a familiar hand
While the other
Poked her and rubbed her
In places where it hurt
I'd offer them
Every single alphabet
Of every language in the world.

If my words
Could fill the void
That hangs in the air
Everytime a woman lays
On her bed like a machine
Turned on and turned off
At her husband's will
I'd write them on every leaf
Hanging on every branch of a tree
And send them away
With the breeze.

If my words
Could give life to statistics
And transform numbers
Into something more humane
Something harder to forget
In a world where mourning
Is reduced to 140 characters
I'd engrave them on every stone
That lies on the path
To justice.

If only my words could...
I'd scatter them in the air
And wait with bated breath
For them to seep into
The skins of survivors
And replace every atom of shame With resilience.

Home

Long after the sky had stopped weeping,
Long after the earth had been charred,
Long after the trains had been derailed
Long after the streets had lost their name,
I came for you.
Only to find a lock on your door.
I asked around, desperate for a clue
But no one knew your name,
There were no memories of you
You had disappeared like fireflies in day time
They say history swallows up the quiet ones
And you, you were as quiet as a morning dawn

They told me to pretend you never existed
That way, I'd heal faster, break lesser
They told me to pretend you never existed
But I exist, with a museum of memories in my head
And they won't allow this pretence
I remember the time we used to play hide and seek,
You'd hide in the same place every time
Behind the apple tree in the orchid of the one eyed man
And I, I'd pretend to not know
You'd tip toe from behind and shout "Boo!" in my ears
I'd let you win another game,
My victory was making you smile.
But now, you were hidden in a place
I could never find you,
I couldn't even say "Let's stop the game
And go home"
Home?
Home had disappeared just like you had
Or had both of them, to me, meant the same thing?

A Pragmatic Advice

There you go again,
Thinking about things, people, places
Far far away
Not connected to you in anyway
You've never visited these hills
Or met the child with the scar before
You've never been chased by fire
Threatening to consume your memories
You have a home,
You have parents
You have limbs
You have peace
You have a future
The only sound that pierces your ears is the music from your earphone
The only blood trickling out of your skin is due to a paper cut
The only time you leave behind home
Is when you go on a vacation
The only guns you know of were in the
Video games you played as a child
So why do you think?
Think about things, people, places
Far far away
Not connected to you in anyway.

Go on, leave behind these worries
That give you sleepless nights
And swollen eyes
Worry about the next exam
Worry about your future
Worry about money
Worry about heartbreak
And remember,
Worry about blood
And guns
And lost homes
And broken limbs
Only, only when the disaster
Strikes home.
Walk silently on broken roads.
Keep your head low
And don't,
Don't help a lost soul
Run, run away
Hide behind dark corridors
When a sword emerges
To cut off a stranger's head
Stay inside, stay inside
If a curfew descends on your city
Hush
No words
No screams
No,
Not until it is your head
They put the sword to.

Of Cigarettes and Cyclones, Lights and Lego Houses

They say that once you grow up
You should write about things
That concern the realities of adulthood
You should write about
Love and lust
Trust and tornadoes
Cigarettes and cyclones
Walls and wine
Solitude and scars.
Your poetry should mirror the world around you
And talk about
Politics and pain
Refugees and rights
Humans and homes
Violence and victories
Wars and wisdom.
But tonight,
I'll write about
Magic and mysteries
Candies and colours
Unicorns and umbrellas
Paper boats and pencils
Apples and adventures
Lights and Lego houses.

Do you remember what they were?
I will write so that you remember
I will write so that you do not forget.

Not All Men Are The Same

I see dear, that you've become afraid of love
Because of the boy who left without a word
You never ran out of things to say to him
When you were together
The conversations began at dawn
And continued till moonlight broke in through the clouds
But he could not find the right words
To say goodbye
No words would have been right.

I see dear, that you're afraid of touch now
Because of the man, years older
Who quietly touched you as a child
In places where it hurt
You didn't cry back then, you were too young to feel pain
To understand that some men can be monsters
But the pain comes back to you in moments of silence
As you lie in the arms of another man
No noise can drown it out.


I see dear, you have become afraid of smiles
For your father came home smiling
Each time he had a little too much to drink
After having spent the night in the arms of a woman
Who wasn't your mother
But you loved him back then and you love him still
You never had the courage to hate.


I see dear, your faith dwindles
And your heart trembles
Each time you come across a man
Who makes you believe in a better tomorrow
The words they say seem like elements of fiction
The promises they make seem to be made of glass
But, my dear, just once
Once
Just once
Don't see the present from the prism of the past
Don't make your future a hostage of your experiences
Take your time,
Unravel my sides
Tell me your fears
Not all men are the same, my dear
Not all men are the same.

The Moon No Longer Belongs To Me

In the camp swarming with flies,
Tired of the half truths and twisted lies
I sat down to talk to the moon
For sleep wasn't going to come soon.

I tried to tell the moon my story
Just another tale of a homeless refugee
But the words came out in muffled whispers
In my mouth remain unhealed blisters.

Others said it'd comfort my soul
For the moon belongs to humanity as whole
Yet I don't recognise it- not anymore
It appears to belong to a foreign lore.

It isn't the moon I saw as a child
Back when life was carefree and wild
When the streets still belonged to me
And a home too, sheltered by a tree.

Now my country has been reduced to rubble
Dreams of a future burst like a bubble
The homes no longer shelter or comfort
They contain memories that only hurt

In the moon I see those observing silence
As we desperately cross seas to flee violence
It turns away, treats me like a stranger
Simply thankful to be out of danger.

In the moon I see blood stains
A reminder of my people's pains
Like my street, my home, my country
It no longer belongs to me.