Dawn

By Kalpita Mukherjee

I have felt alive 

Upon watching the nothings of everyday turn into the only things I care about. I have felt my childhood dissipate with the red sun, 

As I breathe grey air from my dad's cigarettes. 

I have seen a younger version of myself run and break her foot, And in that moment, I regret running. 

I have smelt my brother's sweat after he came back home from football practice, And I have asked Ma what's for dinner even after inhaling the aroma of freshly cooked rajma. 

I have touched the water that was collected in the puddle after a day of heavy rain, Indierent about whether the dirt would stain my ngers. 

I have read and I have watched, 

And all I end up thinking is how I cannot feel your pain- I can only imagine. I can yell at the sky and ask a now, non-existent God why it can't be a mere Imagination for you too. 

Because if God was there, with us, with you, 

You wouldn't be in so much pain. You wouldn't hurt. You wouldn't bleed. It's sickening how you haven't felt alive, 

How you haven't even started living. 

You shouldn't have to breathe the grey air from the bombings, You shouldn't have to watch your childhood disappear in front of you, taking the shape of a red pool of blood. 

You shouldn't have to cry for your dead mother. You deserve a mother. You shouldn't have to run to save yourselves from getting shot, You shouldn't have to scream to be able to breathe. 

Be light, Palestine. Have hope. 

You will live again. You will be human again. 

The sun will rise, and you will heal.

By Kalpita Mukherjee