Chardi Kala & June the 3rd.

You know, all of last week, I been wondering why I can't sleep. It's made no sense. As weird as my sleeping patterns may seem, I've always been able to sleep when I'm sleepy and for as many hours as needed. But the past week's been strange and somethings been off. I just couldn't figure out what until the poem bellow came out. I suppose I should've guessed. How could I sleep with the 3rd of June inching closer? Another year has passed. Another 365 days full of stories and our tattered souls rummaging through their remain to find those slivers of hope to make us whole again.

Yes, I could tell you in plain words and a straightforward manner what the date signifies. And no, this once I will not do so upfront. Ask. If you want to know, and have a strong stomach, ask. Because I will tell you the truth of what atrocities happened on June 3rd, 1984 that started long before the day and have been ongoing ever since.

A normal day, today never will be
but when normal is Sikhi
everyday is normal to me
yet the strength it takes
to laugh and smile
the effort it takes
to at least start the story
with dry eyes

when other days
I can simply hear the chirping birds
today, I have to listen
the buds I generally await to welcome
right as they bloom
today, their blossoms have to call me
while most day I tap into
the rhythms of the universe
today, the universe has to sing me lullabies

Rakind means full moon
this day, is the annual lunar eclipse
it's the day my community was ripped apart
from inside out
it's the day that made me exist
Yet, it's also the day
I exist despite of 

June the 3rd-
a perpetually twisting knife
in our still beating hearts.

Still, ask me how I am. And with all honesty, I will reply - In Chardi Kala.