Like you
Not horrific, he looks
Twenty one people he savaged.
I am not a brutal killer
Instinctively thought I.
Twenty nine or may be
Around thirty he is
An age of exploring individual
What seems palpable
In the eyes of Indian youth,
Some criminal gang he worked with.
In a secluded cell behind bars he stays
It bears outside ‘eikaantwaas’
That swiftly reminds me of gentle sainthood,
Government feeds such people lifetime
It is Law and system's mood
Some caged birds
With intense darkness on face
Looking out from cages
With dead hopes in weary eyes
And listening the chirruping of
Free birds outside.
Against feudalism
Sridatta had initiated hunger strike
And remained without food
For eighty four pathetic days
And died,
With a shining name on
Pages of history.
Do they regret?
Of what they have done
The question seeks our adequate awareness,
They must be in a rosy desire
Of boundless liberation and
To take a fresh breathe
With a fearless flight.
(Inspired by a visit to Tehri Jail)
July, 25,2018
Copyright @ D. B. 'Anpadh'
Stupendous sir
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