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1.
There are prescribed rites
To take around the corpses
When death strikes.
Some bodies are taken away in army vehicles.
Some bodies in decorated chariots.
Some bodies in sandalwood coffins.
Even if they are with no power or lead no easy life,
When their bodies traverse the streets,
And forgot.
2.
Dense jungle where light enters not.
Breezeless, wordless.
They are imprisoned
Within invisible walls.
When the need arises,
They are summoned and ordered
To clean up the houses the streets
The offices the premises the toilets.
In fact, all spaces
Except hearts.
3.
In tranquil moments
Butterflies flit around
All over the place
As if they are imparting
Lessons in freedom.
An army of children
Follow them everywhere.
What befits more
Than the colours on their wings
To teach about liberty?
But,
When the storm blows from the direction of the fortress,
When the dead bodies are soaked in the rain of blood,
The butterflies are not to be seen at all.
Children do not realize this.
When the wind ceases to blow,
The butterflies start flitting around again
And start preaching to the
Corpses lying in the bushes
the virtue of liberty.
4.
As someone somewhere scrawls on a wall
As someone somewhere obstructs someone
As someone somewhere seethes in anger
As someone somewhere draws a gun
As someone somewhere convulses and falls.
Some said it was only one.
Some said it was ten.
Some enquired whether
They died from the lathi blows
Or fell in the firing.
On the roads, in the side streets,
In the open fields,