Processing

Here’s a protest poem by Kabir, in Different Truths.

Living, a terrible forgotten emotion

Knife, helps me think of a nation

Tyranny, plans the burden to rise

Monotony, imperialist word to supervise

Dementia, intimidating the ants to commemorate

Experience, enormous yet limited

Rhetoric, abundant to be seen from the space devices

Blood, flowing river demarcating the civilians

Revolution, thrown with a spit as it hurts

Acid, nurtured like a pet to help them implement

Burning, shaking the earth over an air conditioner

Clash, found to be orphaned by politics

Turmoil, insisting the flesh resume repulsion

Brutality, an arrow for numerous broken bows

Questions, left on an invisible island

Answers, crying like a famine struck child

Freedom, attached to the nation detached from the civilians

Politics, pushed by the civilians yet hunting the civilians

Order, found among the venomous which dominated the non-venomous

Silence, fried in the ovens of million brains

Voice, fried yet living the life of a prisoner

Escape, a wide road for making the process easy

Isolate, a step forward to hunt the determined

Ending, to make someone to break everyone

Picture design Anumita Roy, Different Truths