Here’s a poem of protest and hope, by Neelam, in Different Truths.
When you can rather speak than soil your feet halfway through let your voice be heard without angst and hurt. When the eyes can see what one should believe in stars against the backdrop of buildings, treading through serpentine paths. The joy of breeze, rain won't ever be over, won't ever be soot, and something more.
Picture Design Anumita Roy, Different Truths
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