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-syllable
word,
it can fit in anywhere, no trouble.
Happy Independence Day to you if you are celebrating 70 years of self-rule! Jai Hind!
