Drip Dried Poem by Aditiya raj

Do you remember us?
You see this dry barren home,
nothing but browned river bed, but rotten roots, but hip bones of nameless women
Crusted relics of the evaporated futures, abused, drip dried, colonized.
Put your ear the the earth
hear my ancestral waters trickle
You are not safe in
Jhulelal Sindhi Mother of Water
revengeful riptide.
Don't you remember us?
Water will cycle
I, Jhulelal will spill rain…
Droplets will whisper down your white cheek,
Listen to her run off, our soils cries,
before our blood precipitated and you soaked up her spices
Water holds memory
I, Jhulelal will send a rushing river
stream sindhi stories back into white watered down textbooks
Flood the halls of your textile factories
foundations built on aunties backbone
Watch as I water board your treaties, your broken promises, your partition
Don't you remember us! No?
I, Jhulelal will send tsunamis
For water is the lifeblood of the land,
You, who claim it as their own,
Decimating our earthly home
This is your indigenous education!
From standing rock to the ganges
You cannot outrun this wave
Of grief, of passion and pain
You throat will sting on my salt waters,
choke on tears
Of dakota, Maori, aboriginal mothers
Your lungs will fill with oil, with coal, with fossil fuel
Your limbs will twist and turn in the Rapa Nui riptide
I, Jhulelal will command the
Moon to never return the tide until
Until you drown in our names