Wait... Poem by Ananya Guha

Wait, there is death around all corners
even when the population is teeming
millions, then billions in a developing country
wait, the insane are sane, they want a rewriting
of everything. Caste, religion and colour.
Wait, the cities are going to be smart
towns will transform to burgeoning cities.
Wait.

Outside there is stillness, the pattering of rain
does nothing to arrest murderous claims, or doings.
In India there is no murder.
People simply die endlessly. Accidents, riots and mob
anger. It is collective herd mentality. Happens everywhere.
Why blame a country and its people?
Wait.

The rain has abated now. Not the news, the news pours in
like traffic histrionics. The news inundates our lives.
Cosmic force. Wait.

Yesterday I refused to read the news or watch the television.
There is no use, the news will cackle out laughter, not tears
on death of a person bludgeoned to death of course
because they say, his palate was of the wrong, wrong choice.

Wait, in this serene afternoon hills refuse to be bloodied.
We don't mourn. Only wait for the rains, the whispering summer
wind.

My mind goes to poetry, fiction and protest.
I signed just now a campaign signature
while others put a stamp on death.