THE FOLLOWING POEM WAS SELECTED IN WINGWORD POETRY PRIZE 2023 LONGLIST.

I often wonder what it means to be free.
I grew up hearing freedom and liberty as the mottos of my democracy.
Am I free simply because I was born here, a natural citizen? Am I free because I have an identity card to prove my citizenship?
I grew up hearing that I live in a republic where the people are powerful,
But I go around begging for what is rightfully my due: rations, education, shelter, electricity, and healthcare.

I often wonder what it means to be free.
I grew up hearing secularism and diversity as the uniqueness of my nation, its pride.
I am beaten up if I don't chant a slogan, teased because of my skin color, and mocked for resembling the Chinese.
I grew up hearing that the law is for all, and all are equal,
Yet I'm beaten up for speaking to a girl from another religion, and I'm forced to tie a rakhi and call her 'behen'.

I often wonder what it means to be free.
I grew up hearing about freedom of speech and the right to equality,
But I'm often asked about my surname and my ancestors' occupation.
Whatever I speak is labeled as rightist, leftist, pro, or anti.
I grew up hearing that the nation comes first, and we are all brothers and sisters,
Yet when I voice my dissent against a biased bill or don't conform to the majority's stance, I'm booked for sedition and branded a traitor.

I often wonder what it means to be free.
Flying within a cage, going in circles,
Flying at a controlled pace with my clipped wings.
I'm made to fly blindly, as I'm led and told to follow the flock.
I fly with my head ducked in fear, living just to see the next day's dawn.
I fly to survive, at 'the cost' of my freedom.