375- Nidhil Vohra

That December, Delhi stood in disbelief. The Indian flag fluttered reluctantly at the top of the Lal Qila which stood an embarrassed red. All the minarets and all the monuments handed in their two weeks’ notice. There was no honour left to protect, no pride left to fight for. Delhi was mourning. Her people gathered in a conglomeration of hurt, hoping to overpower the smog that sheltered the city from the eyes of all those fortunate enough to not live within her maverick borders. A loud cry came from within a loud cry. Everyone knew.

Shouting and screaming

in streets that were used

to not much else. Lights

Do you see

the people begging

for change today

amongst

the people begging

for change today? Camera

From Safdargunj

to Hazrat Nizamuddin, this time

those who weren’t

privileged enough to forget,

chose to remember. Action

Everyone knew. The milkman who worked at the dairy in Khan Market had mentioned it to his wife over dinner, who narrated it to her sister over the phone the next day. Her sister was quick to bring it up when she dropped her dirty laundry off at the washerwoman’s. The washerwoman, during her rounds that day, spoke about it with everyone and that is how the engineer’s wife found out. Her children overheard their parents discussing it when the engineer returned from his job at the cable factory. During recess, the class teacher was shocked to find her sixth graders chatting about something so despicable, so vile. The class teacher rushed to the principal’s office leaving the class monitor in-charge. The school didn’t hand out newspapers that day. A loud hush-hush.

Swift, sound, and sans mercy

justice arrives in

the unexpected

the unanticipated

the unprecedented victory

of good over evil.

One justice is

enough justice

for the year.

There remains

little else to do now.

Now we must sleep, again.

A loud hush-hush. The celebrations soon disappeared and all that remained was silence. The silence revived the decay. The mufflers were shed, and the monkey caps were replaced by a sea of Gandhi topis . The December gave way to a similar January (albeit in a different state) which transitioned into a February of equal depravity (albeit in a different year) and then March, April, November. Not a month was spared. Delhi stood in disbelief. Trying to look outside while it peered within.

The smog thickened.