A Nod to the Odd
This is a new millennium.
And the years start with 2.
You see, 2 is a difficult number.
For it takes 2 to clap and to fall in love too.You see, love is a mutual emotion.
And I’m destined for the odd ways.
So I sit and write in metaphors.
You see, this is how my heart allays.And yet when two men, hold hands
Or two young women kiss under the sun.
Someone looks away, someone spits on the ground.
There’s always someone who makes fun.Someone shouts from a distance.
Someone prays in deep silence.
And you and me, the lighted beings.
Choose to be shut. Acquiescence.We tape our mouths, no sound to come out.
By stapling lips and tying tongue.
A fire ignites inside us. I think of poems of rage.
You think of human rights caged. Both stung.And yet, neither of us utter a syllable.
For the last time, someone had spoken out
News read incidents of mob lynching.
We look at each other. In rout.You see, they say we’re all the same and free.
Yet when a girl cuts her hair short
Or a boy puts on some make-up
They’re frowned upon with attempts to abort.You see, they want us to fit into equations.
And every variable needs to be an x or a y. Or nothing at all.
You see, gender is a social construct,
For captivity and armour. You see, gender is just a wall.And every time one tries to peek over it
Or doesn’t confine to the laws.
Somehow, the equation does not equate.
And we blame the variables to be the cause.You see, we like things which are even.
But, 2 is already a difficult number.
And yet, this millennium starts with two.
This poem was written in collaboration with Akash Mani, Abhishek Ramachandran and Antony Terence.
