January 30, 2017 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Patrick Fallon



Tanushree Ghosh



Outside The Perimeter God Cares About



I don’t know how not to protest…

As I try not to think of the children washed ashore dead

And the ones with dust all over their face

As the richest country in this world closes its door for the most in need.


There was the 1951 convention I guess – where we had decided to never again turn our backs – never shut out eyes – fresh from horrors of the holocaust our hearts had opened…

…Albeit a little too late

But that was then – and that was for them…

For lives are not equal anymore – or maybe they never were.



I drive by dropping daughter off, to be taken well care of at a premium daycare. And I pass them – standing rain or shine, freeze of hail with placards narrating conviction to life.

‘Save Lives – Save our children’

‘It’s murder’ some read, ‘to turn our backs’

I find my mind drifting trying to remember how it had felt… when I had first seen my child’s heartbeat. And I am convinced that they are right: as for me, my child’s life had started from the first test.

And then, I realize it’s all a farce. A fool’s paradise rather.

Or a just world where the pronoun is key. The ‘our’ in Save Our Children.

For lives are not equal anymore – or maybe they never were.


Anxious parents warned me this morning: to not attract too much attention. And friends consoled to not be too upset. Our lives needed to continue. And there are other things to think about.

I tried, really tried, to heed.

But then, I realized, while looking through some posts online,

A child’s eye looks at you the same no matter who they are. For they don’t know yet that values are subjective. Or that convictions and conventions are not for all.

I try hard to look away from my child’s eyes,

In the fear of seeing them instead looking back at me.


The ones who maybe thought we had once cared – when we fought a war for the so called values

Not for revenge, not for resources,

Just out of goodwill we had decided to rage

We couldn’t finish it, maybe no one could have

So now it’s their mess to clean, their fault for being born into it

To the wrong parents

At the wrong time

For they are not a precious ultrasound, in a womb terrified to have to have them.

They are flesh and blood with feet and eyes, outside the perimeter my God cares about.










Tanushree Ghosh

Tanushree Ghosh works in Supply Chain Management in the Tech industry (she has a Ph.D in Chemistry from Cornell University and has worked at the Brookhaven National Laboratories) and is an author and activist in her spare time. She is a blogger for the Huffington Post and has published in several literary magazines and blogs. Her first anthology was selected into Oprah’s reading list 2.0 and her first single author manuscript is currently with her agent: Jennifer Lyons. She is also the founder of HerRights: a non profit working to catalyze action against gender violence. For more on her visit:www.thoughtsandrights.com.

1 Comment

  1. P C K PREM January 31, at 05:06

    Very nice...it charms and compels to deliberate.


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