-Dyal Singh College Road, 9 P.M. Emerging from the metro, I met a swollen moon, I sipped a little smoke, tripped on the NIA. There was Hany Babu singing out a lecture— it was so soft and clear; it sounded like a poem. I sat down on the footpath, I shivered, yes, I cried: how can we celebrate with friends like this inside?Comments closed
-Hauz Rani, 6:24 p.m. Let’s walk out into the light, my love! Why not? There’s time before night, my love. This sky is hard to define, it’s true; both bats and birds are in flight, my love. Recall how we shivered for hours that night— Shaheen Bagh was crowded and bright, my love. This morning, rain washed our smokey sky; Hany Babu’s still jailed tonight, my love. A coward, yes; I’ve surrendered my name— to this broken world, I write my love.Comments closed
-for Hany Babu and Varavara Rao We met near the pond, I brought something to eat: tomatoes, bread, your favourite sweets— old couples strolling, children laughing; it would have been perfect, except for these things: the ducks were caged, the pond was dry, there was no breeze, and I wondered why we jail our best teachers and poets.Comments closed
-for Hany Babu Last week in the market you saw two fights, I saw one myself, today— wounded pride or unpaid debts, rain-fed flowers of worry. Neighbors and friends still trickle away, as rations and patience run low; now they’ve arrested Professor Babu— is anyone really surprised? Pigeons mate on my windowsill, a lizard slips under the door; the dogs on the street were restless last night, as if they sensed a storm coming.Comments closed