Is struggle a justification for curruption Like oppression is for violence? Is majority enough to make a decision? Is injustice a just reply to injustice? Why do innocent civilians suffer For the shitty steps of government? Why even children Who don’t even vote? Nations: Fancy drawings on maps Religion: Practices of unchallengable laws God: Answer to something you can’t answer How is that all of any good If it leads to the death of fellow humans?

Poem 1: I go out and wander late night Stand in the amazement of lights. I clean and decorate my adobe Rearrange clothes in the wardrobe. I make cards and posters Putting Diyas, photos, and figures. I worship, I dance, I sing I try every possible thing To veil the eternal sadness Because I need to confess This isn’t home And this isn’t Diwali. Poem 2 When even some distance relative dies

\ Hope is the heaviest weight we carry Hope is the toughest love to sustain. Hope is the shiniest bowl in my room Hope is the most fragile bowl in my room. Every time it breaks, I sit in the night By the candlelight And I patch it with the glue of a poem. Then I go out in search of stones. Hope is the most innocent one It rises and floats and dances

I stand on the hill Watching the sun disappear Into the darkness. I wait for the moon To rise from the horizon And end the darkness. But light doesn’t come And dark clouds take over the sky Black the conqueror! The hill sounds like Silent cries of dying hope And the light never comes. This is a Haiku Chain Poem