Title: The Spark Cannot Be Silenced Poem by ashok jadhav

(The speaker stands on a stage or street corner, voice trembling at first with fear, then rising with fury and conviction. They speak as if addressing both the oppressed and their oppressors.)
Monologue:
They think we are silent.
They think we are afraid.
They think that because we bend, because we whisper instead of shout,
we have given up… given in… given ourselves away.
But they are wrong.
We have not forgotten.
We have not surrendered.
The fire is still here. Burning, smoldering… waiting for a spark.
And I… I will be that spark.
They took our voices, our homes, our dignity…
and they expected us to kneel, to obey, to vanish.
But we are not made to vanish.
We are made to fight. To resist. To rise.
And if they try to crush us… if they try to silence us…
then they will hear our roar.
They will feel our fury.
They will remember that the oppressed can never be truly broken.
I have watched too long, waited too long…
and now, I act. Not for glory. Not for vengeance.
But for justice. For truth. For the chance that someday
the world will know we did not bow.
We did not break.
(Pauses, voice dropping, almost a whisper, then rising to a shout.)
And if I fall… I will fall standing.
Because resistance is not just survival—it is the soul's refusal to die quietly.
And I… I refuse to be quiet.
(The speaker steps forward, chest heaving, eyes blazing, as if daring the oppressors to try and crush the rebellion they cannot contain.)