We lay awake, trembling.
We no longer understood the rules,
or where we were going.
We stopped posting selfies;
we flirted with memes
and sarcastic stories.
One by one, we got VPN’s.
We shifted to Signal for politics,
gossip and love.
We could not put down
our phones; we could not bear
to look at our phones.
We knew we had it better
than many. We knew it would
get worse.
We fell in love at rallies,
argued on marches and tried
to forget what was coming.
Some of us were detained
and beaten. We knew many
had it worse.
We joked about the new virus—
we hugged each other and laughed
when we coughed.
Some of us called our parents,
some of us started smoking,
some of us secretly prayed.
We sang of heroes, cursed fascists,
shouted brave slogans and worried.
We were so tired.
Some days we thought we’d gone mad.
We remembered Kashmir;
some of us drank too much.
Some nights, we gazed at the moon
from Jasola Vihar or Jamia.
Some mornings, we woke up crying.