Someone in the crowd
When the face in the crowd
looks no different from me
and
so do all the faces.
Actions of speech, laughter, sadness
and silence
is someone else’s
and also mine.
The questions asked
spins in a vacuum
but still no one is without answers.
A dull ache up the body
confirms it once again
that
I too have become someone in the crowd.
Like massacred bodies
tossed into mass grave
later dug out
as skeletons
all white bones
all hollow skulls.
Lump of hair
and shreds of cloth
and nobody to mourn.
(For children dead, and assumed dead. Also for victims of atrocities by Bengal government. There is a case for Art. 356 in Bengal. The incompetent CM of the state should quit)
