Existence

A protest poem

Existence

Midnight knock at the pin drop door.

You have to replace a dead undertrial.

Shall I put on a shirt? Gulp a few morsels?

Slip off through the terrace?

Door-planks shatter and wall plaster flakes

Masked men enter and enflank

“What’s the name of that squint-eyed guy

Where’s he hiding?

Speak up, or come with us !”

I choke in terror: Sir, yesterday at sunrise

He was lynched by a mob.

(Translation of ‘Astitwa’) 1985