Three poems by Abhishek Anicca
All roads lead to Gandhi Maidan
I once saw a man bare footed
holding a flag, walking, walking
on exhibition road in the middle
of June, a plastic bottle in his hand
a bag on his right shoulder which hung
like the smallest branch of the banyan tree
under which buddha attained enlightenment
In his bag, he must have been carrying
the leftovers of an elusive democracy
The art of lying
My failure in love finds comfort
in our collective failure
as a democracy
At least I am no longer
lying to myself
The future is ours
She reads my palm on a sunny day
and tells me democracy is out of my hand
I want to protest
but my landlord will throw me out
If he hears me shouting laal salaam
we shut out the sun
undrape our bodies
reject the establishment
and start making the right noises
everything turns red
crevices that awaited change
sweat and saliva
hammer and tong
It takes two revolutionaries
to take a stand
ID: An artwork of people coming together to protest with democracy written on it. Source: Google Images (under Creative Commons)
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