To get to school, I take a short cut through the slum
I never look at the children there, not going to school
I look away
In college, I never visit the mess workers’ quarters
I never listen to their whines
I look away
In my car, at the signal, I don’t look at the children peddling ball-point pens, whistles and charts with pictures of freedom fighters
As the light turns green, I fling an eight-anna coin out of the window
And look away
I don’t care to look at another’s point of view
I look away
Looking away has become a habit
Babri Masjid demolished: Look away
Bombay blasts and riots: Look away
War in Afghanistan: Look away
Gujarat pogrom: Look away
The cat _hago_es on the mat: Look away
Kashmir is disappeared: Look away
The Assam NRC is published: Look away
So what then do I look at? What do I see?
I look inside me
And see
A void where there should be
My antaryami