By: Helan Maria Cyrill
In broad daylight, ‘midst Manipur’s streets so wide,
Two women, young and old, in despair reside,
Paraded naked, their dignity denied,
Groped, molested, their faith set aside.
Alone they stood, under countless eyes’ glare,
Their hearts turned cold, burdened with the nightmare,
Alone they cried, their voices filled the air,
Seeking justice, they stood, a silent, solemn pair.
Pain nestled deep within, they stood their ground,
Grief welling up, they rose, courage they found,
Hoping to be heard, voices in resound,
But silence and inaction was all around.
Hearts heavy, wounds revealed months later on,
A nation stirred, conscience awakened, dawned upon,
Yet, did they speak out, or remain withdrawn,
As a land lay scarred, with stories left unsung.
In the background, a land so vast, so wide,
Scarred by flames, ashes and tears coincide,
Tales untold, within its soil reside,
Amidst widows in white, dreams set aside.
Families broken, laughter fades away,
Homes destroyed, tears flow day by day,
Before graves, they stand, with hope’s faint ray,
Holding onto dreams, in their own way.
Hills and valleys left with nothing to bestow,
Crumbs of dreams and lives scattered below,
People dream of a better tomorrow’s glow,
Seems distant, but they still let hope grow.
Silence gives rise to questions deep within,
Stomachs churn, helplessness, it’s a sin,
A broken nation waits for answers to begin,
In silence, it stands, in unity within
