As days turn to weeks
And weeks wait for their
Turn to feel complete as
Months, we stare endlessly,
Hopelessly for signs of a future
That promises something more
Other than the change of date,
Month and year. All the people
Who promised us a future are
Dead. All the people who fought
For our right to the future are dead.
Today shall be mourned as there
Will be no tomorrow. Tomorrow
Belonged to the man who
Died without kissing the
Forehead of his daughter. He
Died without passing on his
Baton, his rallying cry for a future
That despises us all. Now we
Will forever be trapped in a
Present that continues to mock
Us in a loopy fashion. No one
Prepared us for this day when
Words like ‘be in the present
Moment’ would sting like a bee.
Today, we want nothing of this
Present where a daughter is
Denied a last embrace of her
Father. Today we want nothing
Of the future. Take us back to the
Past where we are slurping
On melting ice candy on sticks
Under the hopeful gaze of
Mahavir Narwal who believed
That this country belonged to us all.
Now that he is dead, there’s no more
Pretending that it does.
Bhawna Jaimini is an architect, writer and activist in making. She works closely with the residents of some of the most marginalised neighbourhoods to improve their built environment.
Featured image: Activist Natasha Narwal with her father Mahavir Narwal. Photo: CPI(M)/Twitter