FLAMES OF BLUE FIRE
Your teargas is burning our eyes. and the violence of your caste and religious hatred, our houses burning from hunger is that belly, which has walked 21 days to reach home burning still is the naked corpse of my sister that was found after three days, in the bushes of your field burning is the heart of my father a labourer who stares at the cold chimneys of the mills and my childhood too has become a burnt red like these bricks that I bake all the crop in the field, craving for water, is burning itself down and my brother, to burn down his debt is burning out himself like a matchstick blowing hard in damp firewood my mother's lungs have become a furnace and her widow-like daughter-in-law awaiting the return of her labour husband is burning her adulthood chests of all men in my slum have become factories emitting beedi smoke and the degrees of young men are now burning at desi liquor breweries while you sit watching Ramayan...