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In the kitchen,
Heaving sighs
Flowing through the salt fields
The girl who was trampled on
dream rice was made in her tears

The wings of her dreams are shattered
The rights have been cut down
Grinding goals and
powdering the smile
Squeezing out freedom
She will be boiled
and roasted in oil
Curry prepared

Her greenness burned to ashes
with ash smeared on the forehead
She’s coming….

Oppression In the torn
burned in the generosity of fear
In the midst of the mess
and morality.
And the pseudo-culture,
In the pinnacle of hope
She the  cooked one is coming…

Trapped in the fire
blooming in the coal
the flowers of fire…

As you get older,
you get stronger.
Hugging the intoxication of life
Honours for not surrendering
and the one who carried
rainbow colour in her mind is coming.

She’s coming……

-Sindhu Gatha

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