Nupur Chaturvedi

The soldier

Fierce, chilly winds
Icicles piercing my face
Glares piercing my eyes
As I stare at my adversary
In another nation’s garb
Across an expanse that
Promises to swallow us both
I stand my guard
I face the storms
I don’t question
Questions will get me killed
I stand my guard
So that you can sleep at night.

The student leader

Raging emotions
Stifled voices, choking sounds
Surround me as I take the stage
To sing an unpopular tune
To beat a drum so stretched
I don’t know if it will last a single beat
The song has no chorus, no verses
Just one line repeated ad nauseam
You teach me so I can think
You teach me so I can think
Others join me, add more words
But the only problem word is THINK
The song is done
The drum tears
Tempers fray
And I find myself
Crushed by a stampede
Lying on the ground
Looking at the stars
For me, there is no sleep.

The soldier

Who am I fighting for?
The flag I pledge my allegiance to
My fellow soldiers
My officer
My love, my children
My pride.
The coins that rattle in the bank
The forgotten promises
The six months of frozen hell?

The student leader

The rabid crowds feeding on fear
Hoist me up and I become
A symbol
An icon of misplaced bravado
I want to climb down
And sit with you, talk to you
About my dreams
Of pink sunsets and orange dawns
And air that is crisp but free.
But that is not to be.
My thoughts have been trapped
In a little box
And fed to a giant gramophone
With the volume control
In someone else’s hands.
Whose tune does it play?
Mine? Yours? Or His Master’s?

The soldier

Take me back to my home
Walls cobbled together
With cataract-ridden aspirations
And the mould-eaten door
At which my mother awaits
Her martyred son.

The student leader

Take me back to my home
Cow-dung cakes light hungry hearts
With hope, but instead
My father is met with
Angry flashes of questioning cameras
Baying for his son’s blood.

And lies fill coffins.
And lies fill minds.