Three Questions

by Soibam Haripriya

Why did you give me
this irreparable world to inherit
Tainted with stains of history
the world is lost to my kind
Your gallant invoking of mere two battles
fought by women
amuses me to no end
for you know not
I live and die fighting
innumerable ones everyday

Why did you give me
your cemented dogma
where subdued
tender shoots
of green struggle beneath
I am older than the seasons
I am the aged clump of grass
taking root
unrelentingly cracking
the cemented courtyard
I die and sprout again
Why did you give me this soft tissue
deftly at my throbbing
core to break and bleed
at first contact
You judge me by this myth
I am younger than your myths
I will melt and mould
Genesis and revelation
to a lump of nothingness
and mock the demise of creation

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