Don't Speak,Just Laugh

Waiting in the windowless room

It reeked of gloom.

Maybe a dead rat

Or the old officers’ bat.

My hands sweating and hair unkempt

Bruises blue and cuts open.

He asked if this is what I dreamt,

Just some papers and a pen

Not this hell, not this fast.

I did what was right

To express what we felt

He didn’t like it, nor did they.

Joining a terrorist organization? he barked

The librarian wouldn’t have agreed

When she recommended me Cleisthenes

I picked up Plato though.

I refused, but the sigh was overshadowed

By the screeching of the struggling fan,

Hanging by the wires, its future uncertain.

Just like this nation.

It needs the future’s touch

Maybe Aslam, my brother could fix it

Only if they agree.

I looked at the bust of the ever-smiling fellow

His eyes stared into mine.

They seemed dark and uncertain for the country

I laughed at his helplessness.

Just then the senile sheep

Knocked me to sleep.

 -Abhinav Sardesai