In clandestine halls
Surrounded by the mirrored walls
Sit pot-bellied men
Glaring at a screen
That beams with statistics unseen
Of men and women,
Young and old
Gasping to breathe.
What the numbers don’t reveal
Are the stories left incomplete
Of a father who had promised his homecoming,
Of a mother who had to clad her daughter in bridal green,
Of a daughter who had to shatter the glass ceiling,
Of a son who had to provide for the daily means.
What the numbers don’t reveal
Is the helplessness that grips the being
Of people who lie waiting
Outside hospitals to be admitted within
And be given oxygen to breathe.
What the numbers don’t reveal
Are the cries that the lone pyres emit
As they line the streets;
The agony of a goodbye
That was never meant to be.
The numbers don’t reveal
The hopes dashed to the ground
By the pot-bellied men
Who still rally and sing song
In the name of the mighty God
Who is to rise as our saviour
But is nowhere to be seen.
Mitushi Garg is a lawyer based in Delhi. You can find her on Instagram @mitushi_garg.