An intense protest poem by Aparajita, in Different Truths.
The sun drinks my lemonade, Stoic of the clouds That swell up with my tears, Husbanding a water we have Abandoned and aborted; And made Kashmir A dry liquor!! The lout sun-splashed my lemonade. It trickled down her skirt; She shrieked in fear, A ravenous sipping; Her daughter sleeps dead within her. The sun gulps down the sugar cubes, Swathing my emotions I garnished my lemonade with; Waxing his trip to Kashmir, A lazy day in the snow, The picturesque white snow, Polished with money, Flowering in the ‘tourism of India.’ But my lemonade loves to grow stale— A scathing red. So will the sun grow one day And saffron will burn In that wildfire.
Picture design Anumita Roy
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