*DEPRESSION

There was thunder in the hut 
teeth clattered under the ground. 
Handcuffed you walk in inequality 
to qualify for hanging till dead. 
I may not tell myself 
what was happening to me. 

Moving in opposite direction 
the bird was able to catch the smell. 
My stance was always making a stroke 
in the canvas of a tormentor 
abbreviated in a muscular arm 
starting violences of sleep. 

Corralled in doorframes, keeping 
the lights off, this was the nemesis 
for asking for the change. Haungered, the 
human being, absorbed by the 
absence of chains which were not 
coming in sight. 



*On the fate of Kanu Sanyal, founder of naxalite movement, who hanged himself to death on 23th March 2010.

Satish Verma