A COLLECTION OF POEMS IN TIMES OF TURMOIL
By Gauri Sinha
Ming (name) Ming, name, Letters, romantic letters, Join in a union for the birth Of an identity, Breathing within the pronunciations, the separation of your lips and each roll of your tongue releasing syllables, Into insecurity, are civilizations, dynasties, Aromas curling through the air, fertilized within The womb of these words, A name is a bard's song sung in solitude, the vendor's call on a lazy Sunday, It echoes around for everyone to hear, But only a few can consume.
Crowd behaviour The crowd is one whole human being, With pairs of eyes, a nose, and a mouth, They speak to you, a choir of chaos, They look at you, they can smell your despair, They behave mechanically following the one in front, Raise their weapons over the slightest inflection, They ask you to dress a certain way to merge with them, Put on a sheepskin to be with them, They move together in a colloquial sigh, Crowds are in the end a simple human.
A colony Every conquest in this land of diversity, Every change introduced in this colony Was a failed step towards securing our loyalty, When our every prayer, every breath, Was sworn to this land, As we played in its holy soil For us her dusky skin, Is beautiful, Her hair magnificent As we still weave a better tomorrow In her braids.