With the chilly breeze flowing around ,

a breeze within  makes me shiver too ,

There is snow , ice and drops of dew in my place ,

Which used to be green , warm and sunny ,

but now everything seems to have  ceased to rejoice ,

I feel this cold , slowly creeping in my  dreams ,

this breeze slowly fading those days of light ,

Those cheerful memories of love and joy,  fall into the closet of darkness,

To seek some comfort  from the drained world of coldness and  sorrow ,

But only to find uncompassionate loneliness hanging around ... 

Such is the cold we Adivasis feel now ,

Our hands fall numb at times the warmth fades away ,

A chilling breeze of ignorance we pass every night ,

When others prepare their day with joy ,

We linger in pain , empty stomach ,

Crawling for something to call “ours”,

Our limbs are jacked up with cold ,

our voice shiver when we speak ,

Our hands tremble to lift ,

Our eyes  wishes to release the pain ,

But in such cold days , nothing seems to ease the pain,

A small fire we lit , every time thinking it shall be enough ,

A few slogans and movements to say we are still “alive”,

The temporary warmth makes us desperate for more and more ,

Until we feel the ashes merge in the soil and we fall asleep .

Waking up next day or the next next day ,

To the same horrors of night  hoping for newness and betterment ,

We dig those memories of glory and pride we lost to the cold ,

Trying to gain some comfort out of remembrance ,

A little history here , a little movement there,

a small word of us here, a small mention there ,

A chilly cold passed every time,

we searched and searched for something ,

but failed to prove our very identity.

Engage _Aakankshae