Here’s to the angry ones,
The ones who shout, howl, and spit venom until their throats pain,
The ones who gossip, the ones who hate, the ones who dislike,
I wish I could hug you right away and hold you a little longer in my arms.
I know how unhappy you are with yourself,
I know the tears that float in your eyes even after you won the verbal war,
I wish I could put your head on my lap and sing you lullabies so you can sleep in peace after aeons of discontent.
I know I’m neither your problem nor a solution, to all the inner cyclones you are dealing with,
I know you want to fight, and shout and break my bones as deep within you is a wounded saffron warrior who doesn’t know how to ask for balm,
I wish I could kiss your forehead, look into your eyes, and tell you how precious you are.
I wish I could wipe out the self-loathing that’s eating you alive,
I wish to give you my time and listen patiently to all your untold stories of valour and vulnerability, unemployment and lack of identity.
As it’s tough to ask for cuddles, kisses, love and companionship; you envelop every unfulfilled desire into anger as it’s easy,
But I wish to give you the courage to say ‘sorry’, ‘thank you’, ‘I love you’ or a cry for help,
I see your injury when you get irritated at the smallest bit,
I know all you need is some attention, some care, or just a soul from a planet flooded with sapiens,
I know you are looking for a silver lining, maybe, in the wrong places,
I see you dismantling under your flame,
And no fire extinguishers are dialled, and no casualties are recorded.
I have walked in your shoes.
I once wore a saffron robe and died under its weight.
I’m eager to give you the arms I wish I had.
No matter what, I promise, I’m here to stay.
Janvi Sonaiya is a journalist based in Gujarat. She writes on taxation, politics and social issues.
Featured image: Nsey Benajah / Unsplash