From The Quill

 I won't be awake in bed, shedding tears  For yet another stranger of my tribe  If only I felt less human.  I would be happy in my bubble  Of festivities and joy,  Of food, friends and frolick  If only I were less aware.  Is it a boon or a curse? Here I am in a crowd,  That celebrates the homecoming  Of their daughter  While thousands of parents mourn theirs. Here I am, heart full of fear  Hope flickering in despair  As the Goddess is awake;  Waiting for Her to strike  With vengeance on miscreants  Untouched by humans, With every hour that goes by  The sky is gloomy, heart heavy  As we pray,  May such a Pujo never see  The light of day. © Suranya

 The city was dark even in the shimmering lights, Almost like it was evening at midday. The rain poured incessantly.  Like someone cried from the skies above. She watched the crowd, Amidst the cloud and downpour, Looking frantic in joy Cheering for an idol  That was quite a lookalike. They chanted Mantras, Offered the best of fruits  Paid their respects, hands folded Yet she sighed, unimpressed. She turned her back to the crowd, Walked away from the light, Into the darkest alley Of a city that barely survives. Hungry eyes asking for help, Homes washed away, identity at stake. A teardrop blurred her Kohl-drawn eyes, As she turned again in a corner That led to an end. There stood silhouettes  Of tortured souls wailing; Grasping at her, hoping. Young, old, rich, poor, Every soul tormented by touch; She, who is Justice Stood shocked and helpless at first; Anger and agony aligned, As She knelt before them Weeping in despair, asking questions, Could she help those who...