Nupur Chaturvedi

India’s baby

[Question at the end inspired by Pakistani film, Bol. Go watch it.]

India’s baby you were, they say,
Bitten, battered, bruised.
You fought like every India’s baby, they say,
Courageous, consistent, calm.

In a happy place you are, I hope,
In a cradle of down you deserve,
Tubes and pricks are forgotten, I hope
In maternal arms of Love and Joy.

They fought with you, the good doctors,
But did anyone cry for you?
And if you would have lived on,
Was there a life to live for you?

Bye, bye, baby, rest in peace,
The big, bad wolves have gone away,
To scare another India’s child.
Who will it be this time on?
Or is another hope somewhere already gone?

How many India’s babies will die every day,
Who brought them to life?
If killing is a crime in this world,
Should burdened birth be too?

Dreams

Is dreaming wrong? Or pointless?
Must we only chase goals we can achieve?
Should we shroud ourselves in comfortable existence
Snatch the so-called low-hanging fruits
And thereby get ahead in arithmetic progression?

Or should we challenge the flowing tide,
Strive to swim against it,
Beat our chest and proclaim a battle
Against status quo?

And here’s another angle:
Are those who are great
Born with knowledge of their larger purpose
Or is their greatness an accident?

At several points in life, you question yourself,
‘Am I the best that I can be?’
And every time so far,
I haven’t heard a yes or no,
So how do I know?