Freedom is a short word, shapeless like water;
I can pour it into my throat in a draught
and it quenches one thirst, but leaves the other -
tackling that requires more than just wordcraft.
Freedom – it washes into my body
like an ocean tide, and leaves too, just as
the ocean does. The sands littered with rocky
debris, bottlecaps and butts, seaweedfuzz
beached and helplessly immobile till a wave
is moontugged back again. Freedom is a short
word – it fits into my knuckles, the shape
of my lips, the chipped tooth of truth, a sport
of time. Freedom is just a two-syllableword, it can fit in anywhere, no trouble.
Happy Independence Day to you if you are celebrating 70 years of self-rule! Jai Hind!