By Amitabh Vikram
Your cry remained unheard,
Like other objects in this world:
The bark of a distant dog,
The rustling of dried leaves, and
The sound of footsteps.
You cried but it didn’t communicate to me.
You sobbed but I didn’t notice it,
Were they addressed to me-in any case?
I solemnly doubt.
I surpassed them simply,
Considering them involuntary articulation
As your other instinctive biological signs.
The sound of pain,
The sound of suffering,
Did not constitute communication in any strict sense,
Your automatic overflow of emotional energy
Thus remained unheard.
And you accused me of being inhuman,
And I was wondering-
Without using words were you a human?
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