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Searching for Heaven, Praying for Peace

I feel like I hurt a whole lot.
I hurt for little girls who have been
put in hijabs before they could hit puberty.
I hurt for the woman that lies dying
on the pavement, she doesn’t mind
getting trampled on, anymore.
I hurt because I can’t find
the answer to questions like
why is the right wing on the rise
everywhere or where do the
communists go after university?
I had once heard from a little girl –
She had narrated about surviving The War.
the war? which war? how many more wars?
wars that weren’t just the end of
entire countries but ended lives.
wars that created refugees and children
that had to grow up alienated, estranged,
stripped of a land,
they call the foreign country
they arrived in Home—
never fully conceiving the meaning of the word, or living it
how does this exchange work?
you take away their homes
and give them an ethnic conflict in return
causing them to have no roots
I hurt because of how ignorant we
continue to remain about our minority
an ignorance that has cost us before,
causing the silence between us to swell
upon which, barbed wires were drawn,
that don’t let us crossover to each other anymore
wires on which we have often hurt ourselves, trying.
I hurt because old cities are rapidly changing
With the promise of something better,
While they lose themselves in this
cyanthropy too, losing their identity, Just like us.
A new pop-up appears in the city skyline
every day, is it from the new chain of
hospitals, hotels, schools or malls?
It’s hard to tell the difference.
the population and the
increasing levels of carbon dioxide
relating to each other like a y equals to x graph.

I hurt because they expect me to
respect a constitution, that doesn’t take
pride in my existence, because they don’t
understand that the only way to free India from the British

would be to free us of section377
I hurt because even in times of apparent peace
I’ve seen communities desperately clinging to
their ethnicities, as entire histories are
glossed over, the revisionists say they
have a new vision for India
A vision that stems from a past that never was.
I hurt because we failed to teach
communities to feel more empathy towards each other
The marginalized have been pushed to the
Periphery, so much so that
Swiping the victim card is not an option.
We seem to have lost all humanity,
Talking in press releases,
we lay waste our words
Anthropomorphism— is the attribution of
non-human traits to animals
but what do you call
humans who have animal instincts?
how do you prevent another bluestar
Or a chhe December unees sau baanve (6/12/1992)
Above all what can pull my heart from between my lungs,
Through my throat and cause it to leap into my mouth
Is the little valley, stuck between love and war,
That only comes alive,
When it is in mourning for the dead.
For you can take our land away
from us, but not us away from our land.

About Maria Ansari

Maria Ansari
The blogger is a university student, who's reading history and writing herstory, someone who is foolishly optimistic about making a world of difference with her words

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