I Forgive You

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I forgive you.

From within the cage built by your ancestors,
When the heat of your expectations fell upon me,
You thought I would shine.
But you, too, felt the burn of the iron, didn’t you?

Human praise is a divine addiction,
For two hundred thousand years, you haven’t escaped that prison.
You bathed in the admiration of my scorched skin’s brilliance,
Thinking my wounds would become a proud armor, spreading that radiance across the world.
But you never saw the pain of the wounds.

Yet, I forgive you.

Because amidst my silent screams, I noticed your hidden scars.
The burnt scent of which enlightened someone else’s world, millennia ago,
And shackled your very soul.
The lament that today, as hot steam, has scorched everything around.

So I promise,
The cycle of burning, the chain of shackles, ends today with this new sun.
Let futile praise vanish into the darkness of envy from today.

Are you alive?

“Is this disease the worst”? Medically speaking, maybe not. Statistically speaking, of course not, given the mortality rate. But is our mortality in this society only decided by our heartbeat, respiratory rate, or a pulse?

Try walking down the road again. Of course not in the towns and cities were it is still not permitted. Wear three masks if you have to, have a sanitizer in your pocket and rub your hands with that sticky stuff like the flies do when they find a stale food. Do it after every little thing, walking down the stairs, reaching the Grocery, selecting your essential items, waiting for the Grocer to pay him, and then you realise maybe its the only human contact you have got in months, while handing him over the money. Are you alive?

You have to be. There’s no other choice. You staying alive is necessary for the people who depend on your earning, in this godforsaken state of economy. You cannot show any sign of weakness mentally or physically at all. Hold back that sneeze that has been tingling your nerves for the last seven minutes while you were crawling down your regular street. One single slip from your nose, and that’s it. Familiar shady eyes caressing you from head to toe, known lips humming some strange vile words from beneath the masks of various colours in known, strange voices, and of course, “social distancing” increasing from three, six feet to ten, twelve maybe. Are you alive?

Some people with regular enemies like asthma, allergy, they are just praying silently inside, hoping their bodies won’t betray them in these dark times. Their fight won’t be seen with pity or compassion anymore, but with suspicious, fearful eyes. They are afraid they might face what the British faced against Gandhi. But then again, where are you supposed to retreat from your own home? Are you alive? No we are not. What this disease killed, is the small flickering trust that humans had for each other. No one can be blamed. Like in those zombie movies.

Stay safe people, apocalypse is here. Try not to sneeze.

The Caged Bird

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I had flown under the lintel to avoid the storm’s carnage,
Little did I know, I’d find you there locked in a cage.
“You’re a Robin like me!”, I exclaimed , “We aren’t meant to be confined!”
She gave an discontented smile and replied, “Believe me, I am fine.”
“I am my master’s favourite prize, he boasts of me to guests,
He brings me food whenever I ring this bell, I must be truly blessed.
He saves me by eating the toxic fruits and feeds me the delicious seeds,
He loves me so much that he gets enraged if someone else touches me.”

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