1 min read


As we, the children of Ambedkar

try and understand our identity

we realize that we are

long rivers of revolution

flowing since

the stillness of centuries,

birds flying out of a tunnel

emerging from

hidden histories,

temporary tourists

wandering through

a bizarre land.

We are because he was,

citizens of his words

and of nowhere else

waiting in this violent country,

waiting for a visa.


For you, a protest

is just another place to go to

like you would to the cinema

or a fancy restaurant,

a state of mind

not different from

heartbreak, loneliness

or drugged euphoria,

an opportunity

to emulate your

“non-violent” heroes.

It is for you

yet another event

on your calendar

among office meetings

and wild parties,

an easy means

to earn praise

at the expense

of our hard earned space,

merely a prompt

to write poems on

using stolen words

and recite at exclusive clubs

built on stolen land.

It is just another

aspect of you

to curate and add,

(with nothing to lose)

to your effusive personality.

For us, a protest

is a fight to breathe,

to speak and to exist.

It is at a lot of times,

a fight against

the likes of you.

Chetan Ashish is a BTech graduate and an IT employee who is actually a wannabe arts student. Poetry is his window to that world, supported by a passion for consuming and discussing cinema, literature and music (mainly through an anti-caste and Marxist lens). It is also a means for him to understand his place in the world better, both personally and politically. When he’s not doing any of those things, one can find him pacing on the terrace while listening to a podcast and observing the mood of the evening sky. Or one can find him sitting by the window in his room sipping coffee, in the company of his best friend and pet shih-tzu Albus. Please note that a pre- and a post-COVID bio could potentially be very different.

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