Three Poems by Anushka Chavan

How does it feel to be human?
To live beyond labels
and to view the world for what it is
without the burden of prejudice or cruelty?

How does it feel to die nameless,
a line item in the newspaper,
a fleeting reference gone up in flames with the banners?
How does it feel to hear the cries,
to watch the agony,
and still decide to take their lives?

We are the species that kills its own,
draping violence in robes of old,
giving bloodshed a sacramental tone and belief.
The same hands that stretch towards
God for redemption
turn to plead for mercy at the hands of man.

On my deathbed,
on my chosen road,
When the sun goes dull,
and I take my last breath,
I'll find peace,
as the crow eats my flesh.

When death approaches,
I'll offer myself,
fragile and undone,
Internally rotten
but tender flesh,
A gift to the earth,
so life goes on.

I'll think of my family and friends,
Of you,
and your innocence,
Even in death,
I'll put you first,
For I'll be the last to know
when my heart stops beating.

Before I partake universe,
let the wind take me.
Forget me,
but just grant me one last wish
scatter my ashes,
so I may finally be free,
so I may finally be me.

You and I
we’ll grow this seed together
an answer to the question
What do we need to survive?

The days will come,
weather will break,
the skies will bruise.
We’ll sing to drown the cracks,
Press the soil between our hands,
call the sun, the rain, the wind.

It will not be us.
Its roots may carry our weight,
but it will fight fate
scream like the storm,
smile like the wind,
sting like thorns guarding roses.
It will learn to sing the soil’s song.

Who will it become?
What shape will it take?
A piece of heart darkened,
yet waking each morning
to greet the sunrise again.

How will it hold the weight
of something heavier than life?
A tiny diya, its stammering flame
just enough to light the darkness
but enough to say, I am.