You occupy the head of the table,
a throne by your own right
Decreeing hate like it was absolute
ratified by the passive nodding heads
But I refuse to acquiesce
to be a budding bigot even as a pretense.
Now you must defend your ruse
stand your ground amidst flatterers and fools
and twist my mutinous silence along its spine.
You brandish an unassailable vocabulary
and media truths.
My rebuke is one that betrays ridicule
Sensing the derision, you take no chance
And lob at me the priceless adage
‘Once you’re older, you will see
The ways of life are not all as they seem.’
Maybe it’s true
Over the years, we barter with
Rationale and humanity
But must we so vehemently argue
The results of a trade which
for you, went so terribly?
You lament my stubborn defiance
and blame the ‘blasphemy’ on the streets
For all your love of the sacrosanct past
you deride its dwindling legacy.
None of my words seem to reach you
Perhaps if they were in a text forward instead
I could convince your pragmatic self.
Your axiomatic loyalty is for a republic
But not for its people
Not for its ideals
Only for its end.
Tonight, I resign to defeat,
yet I know,
history will be kinder to me
than to just another proprietor of hate.
Riya Bansal is a Class 12 student who lives in Bangalore.
Featured image credit: Marcos Paulo Prado/Unsplash