Bushra fears the divisive and communal world her grandson would inherit in this poem, for Different Truths.
In a world torn asunder With hate, prejudice, and conflict I gasp as I struggle to breathe As vicious fumes of toxicity Threaten to pollute The air of normalcy
My eyes mist as I look at my babe My newborn grandson, barely a month old I run my hand over his head Not quite rounded properly Birthing stress, they had said I gingerly touch the skin pulsing at the top Wait a while, they had said All will be fine.
But I worry, not for those reasons I worry, ‘coz in this communally entrenched country My grandson is born a Muslim One day, he too will wear a cap A skullcap White Crocheted I freeze…
Bushra Alvi Razzack, the Founder of Delhi by Verse, loves weaving words, emotions and opinions while creating rhythm and imagery to make sense of a situation. Apart from being therapeutic, writing poems is her way of storing memories and recording events.Her articles on culture and society have been widely published. She also translates short stories from Urdu and Hindi into English.An enthusiastic photographer, Bushra loves to look at the world through her lens.