Bearing Witness to My Country’s Genocide
My country’s on a genocide a country where they say god is a woman the same woman is burned alive and the nation reads stories of her corpse, decomposed by the road. where religion calls for the massacre they set fire to the rain for stolen land children are crucified in broad daylight torchbearers of the news held into custody, where children stand in front of a rifle’s mouth – protesting, where their voices are silenced by soldiers who were once protectors where they snatch away pride for their joy ride where leaders put their mouths in a padlock – shut because they have everything to lose but who doesn’t? Words blue on paper won’t express patriotism for the nation but my country doesn’t feel like my country anymore my home doesn’t feel like my home anymore it feels like it is ‘theirs’ where prayers are unanswered and god is two-legged where violence is their spoon and right in front of their eyes the nation serves platters of abuse. Shaheen Bagh’s just the revolutionary’s muse. It must haunt you at night because when you are sleeping we are losing humanity when the harmony is completely torn apart the motherland will sob with the dripping blood of her slaughtered children. You think no one’s watching as if we’re just puppets with swallowed tongues and recycled hearts but history is watching all your jagged sins and after all of this is over when the bonds of patriarchy are broken set us free to transcend higher far away from this human race. |
Author: Aditya Tiwari is an Indian poet and LGBT rights activist. His first collection of poems, April is Lush, (New Delhi: Blue Rose Publishers) was published in 2019. Through his writing, he explores a variety of themes ranging from politics, colour, intersectionality, age, queerness, gender, and revolution. His work has appeared in The Times of India, LiveWire, BuzzFeed, Gaylaxy Magazine, Youth Ki Awaaz, and Gaysi, among others. Learn more about Aditya on Instagram and Twitter at @aprilislush.