And so Hyderabadis watch in horror as the city lurches from one crisis to another. The latest, the communal riots in the ‘old city’, opened up fissures that one thought were buried and gone.  I feel  desperate, drained of hope, and very,very sad. This too shall pass…maybe.

Just thought I’d share this poem here. Did it in class a couple of weeks ago; it was just poetry then. 

The Ambiguous Fate of Gieve Patel, he being neither Muslim nor Hindu in India

To be no part of this hate is deprivation.

Never could I claim a circumcised butcher

Mangled a child out of my arms, never rave

At the milk-bibing grass-guzzing hypocrite

Who pulled off my mother’s voluminous

Robes and sliced away at her dugs.

Planets focus their fires

Into a worm of destruction

Edging along the continent. Bodies

Turn ashen and shrivel. I

Only burn my tail.

Gieve Patel

(Patel is a doctor by profession; a Parsi by birth; and a poet, playwright and painter by choice.)


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