There are ghosts in the wind
Above a land left dry.
And behind the veil, a million eyes
The rivers run through history
Without lament, like
Empty are the houses
With just a stain,
‘mian ki ma chudaye’
And we the people,
Are like forgotten trees
Of our land.
He, who does not bend,
Look now, don’t turn away
Delol, Patiya, Gulbarg, Naroda, Vatwa
Sayaspur, Gayatrinagar, Juhapura, Chamanpura,
Asarwa, Behrampura, Sehrkotda, Malpur
Modasa…are just names?
There are children and their mothers
Coming from the smoke.
And coming from the words
Are men no one knew.
Locked away like official affidavits
In unofficial places
Are secrets that only silence reveals.
And there is a silence in cracking, blackened walls
A silence of blood dried amber.
A silence that echoes a thousand screams.
*for the victims of Gujarat riots of 2002*