Babri masjid demolition by kar sevaks gateway of India on fire

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  1. Gosh I remember this poem so well…I recall hearing it sometime during the pandemic. Such a vivid portrait (I feel like portrait is the wrong word – it does feel like a moving picture, the terrifying realizations gradual but hitting right where it would hurt) of that time, and of what it felt like to grow up in the midst of such a tragedy. Children especially won’t be able to understand the nuances but it WILL leave some sort of mark, and the death of the friendship with Mustafa definitely attests to that. A wonderful piece and absolutely needed at this time.