Justice

 Justice... Justice... Justice...

Where are you justice?

Can't you see these people, using your name in complete glory to satiate their horny memory?

Justice, eh?

You want to give justice to a girl whose most basic right was snatched before she died?

You talk about justice as if punishing those heinous persecutors will bring her back alive.

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You know what you really do when you talk about justice, forming rows and queues? 

You satiate your guilty egos.

You turn your back when injustice occurs, you fight them till they are able to stutter, but once the life is lost, the implication of your misdeeds turning into your conscience cost, you talk of justice in terms so glossed.

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I demand justice, not after my death,

I demand my justice while still have breath,

I demand justice to live and grow,

I demand justice not just to form rows.

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I don't want candles to be burned after my death,

I don't want marches and protests in my name,

I want to live peacefully without a fear of what's my dress,

I want justice to survive the night even when my plans digress.

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These hollow talks of justice after death,

Allows my mind to shut in and lose faith,

I am scared because I am alive,

I am scared to be turned into blurry pictures after I die.

I don't want hands groping through my chains, fear gurgling through my veins, and remnants of dirty memories like stains.

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I want justice in the truest sense.

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-Raj Nandani.