Nandigram

This is my land
on these fields I have seen the purple birth of aubergines
these acres of emerald
have fed me their very own milk
my surrogate mother.
Do you see the green ponds?
Like mysteries were hidden here
Stories floating - of childhood
and queer creatures.
Beyond the first and last light of the blue skies
here, echo freedom chants and songs of my youth

The golden dust of these streets that take me home
and back into the world, record my footsteps
so I know that I have lived today.

This is still my land
but its colour is no longer mine
the fields forests and ponds
are now red
the dust roads no longer maps
and i can only see that half-child
as the colours all die
i wonder did she live? will i live?