We are now in the midst of the old man’s dream
And the clock’s hands have been briskly whisked backwards
Way back into the past and the days of their youth, that they ache to relive
As the glint of a new horizon shone and reflected in our eyes
We missed the hint of fear, growing and spreading fast, in theirs
For they gravely feared us youth and our forwardness
Because they feared, their own women becoming free and fearless
And for their survival, they will stomp on the dreams of their own young ones.
The young are now living their own worst nightmares
Our borderless dreams and horizon-less skies are now being white washed
We are now being told what to eat, what to wear and whom to love.
Young women everywhere have to look over their shoulders
As old men gaze lecherously, ready to devour their youth
Whilst the same old men speak in forked tongues
Promising the moon with their words, whilst
Rewriting our syllabuses, with their concealed hands.
Why can’t the old look us in the eye, rather than hide behind the talk of culture
Ask us and we will tell you how much the old ways have also sabotaged
Our women, our daughters, our friends, and our wives’ freedom
Freedom to dream… of a life beyond a man’s control
But this is no new fight my friends, rather one of the centuries gone by
It’s just that here, we shy away from that tussle, play safe, play respectful.
But slowly the blackness will spread and envelop all that do not conform
And before we know it, all dreaming shall end and the blinkers will be forced on
Everything shall be ordained, written down, for us to meekly and merely follow.
Keshab Mansukhani is from Pune.
Featured image credit: Pariplab Chakraborty