Tim Mckulka EPA
By
Monoranjan Thakur
Atrocities
Where are the children of my town?
Where are your playful screams in the dawn?
Where are the mornings of rush and chaos in the hall,
Where are your childhood to break my vase and windows with a ball?
Come back five year old Yaya, you too had a dream,
Minoo’s only daughter, near Pongo river stream!
You are a beam of sunlight from the Infinite and Eternal, You made life important,
Those were the days; playful encounter with you is a divine appointment!
The barbarism carried beloved father‘s beheaded body testimony to absence humanity,
Echo of your howling smell in the air, knowing you did nothing to deserve their enmity!
The killers are boiling you and all siblings in person!
While playing in the open, they caught you and seven year brother Suleyman!
At present you must be inside a make shift metal prison,
They say it is at 40 degrees Celsius and 50 in person!
You didn’t know anybody named Salva Kiir or Riek Machar in the ally,
You were fond of playing only with barbie doll Kailey!
You have not eaten months after months properly,
As your country is in the state of unruly!
Now you are dying inside this shift metal prison,
May I be able to see the butterfly crimson!
The tree is devoid of life due to hurricane,
Create a world where nobody burns children!
(Written when South Sudanese troops killed 50 people, including children, in this world)
Appeal from a Witch in Assam
Oh My Countryman of geographically and culturally separated society!
Wake up this morning and see my condition with heartfelt sympathies!
The witch-hunting incidents are rising
Don’t you know if it was the creation of some vested interests?
It is sometimes political conspiracy, sometimes human lust
Sometimes powerful sections’ calculated strategy to fill their deep pockets fast!
Those vested interests keep you poor and illiterate,
Take advantage of your predominant superstitious belief!
An uncanny feeling that I was being watched by those perpetrators,
As a struggling helpless young untouchable widow with a toddler!
Many midnights had given me nightmares with my baby,
There were knocks and bangs at the doors by somebody!
Whispering voice of indecent lust of these culprits comes at night
Though I am untouchable in the village during sunlight!
I was attacked with sticks for claiming my ‘illegally’ occupied property,
Seeking protection in hurry from the police leads to frustration
and no help from the society!
Various stages such as registration, investigation, charge sheeting and trial require lot of money!
They intimidated, stigmatized, defamed, and accused me as a witch now,
Made me the loneliest animal worse than the village bitch!
The senseless, inebriated menfolk of our village become namby-pambies;
in the land of Lachit, they are weaker than my untouchable baby.
My Poverty and hunger is nothing before their torture and humiliation,
Witch-hunting is nothing but a ruse!
I am a poor woman, not responsible for any witchery outbreak,
Random misfortunes like getting sick or mysterious deaths requires medical help rather.
Witch-hunting practices took away my basic human rights
Wake up my countrymen this morning with the bright sunlight!
(Written after reading the news …Guwahati, Feb 10 (UNI), 2016. Two brothers were killed while the third one was seriously injured in an incident of witch-hunting near Baithalangso in Karbi Anglong district, Assam)
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