Sedition | Poem

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Like gas in shut chambers, spread their idea of nationalism-
stealthily suffocating the lungs of my people.
Hydrogen cyanide. Dense.
Dense – hence it stayed down, slowly yet constantly raising.

POISON, I wanted to scream,
just when the doors opened.

In came men with gas masks.

I’ve seen them before…
Seen them with khaki shorts and belt buckle pistols.
This time though, upgrades include – khaki pants in place of shorts,
law books in place of pistols.

Threatened they, “Do not cough. Do not let your eyes tear up.
For it is an offence to do so.”

I tried.
Tried hard to suppress the human act of breathing.
My love for life, greater than that of remaining a non-offender,
I gave up.
I coughed my lungs out.
I felt it as every cell in my body was beginning to die a slow death.
My head exploded with a zillion unanswered questions.

I looked around – my people – Homo sapiens –
made of flesh, bones
and a couple of twenty-three chromosomes dwelling in each cell.
None coughed. None had moist eyes.
Speedy evolution? I wonder
FEAR – I fathom.

“Ah! There you are, you anti-national”,
cried out one of the men in gas masks.
“We have spotted the threat to our nation”,
announced he, pointing at me.

As a reward to every other person who seemed resistant,
gas-masks were provided.

“You will now be accused of a criminal act”,
he threatened me;
Not with AK-47 but with sec 124.A.

 

 

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Disclaimer: The images used in this article are from different sources from the internet and are assumed to be in public domain and are displayed under the fair use principle. All rights and credits are reserved with the respective owners and not that of the writer or The Spokesmen.in

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Article contributed by:

Mahima Meenaxi
Member




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