Salt is Born

A Poem (Prompt — Work)

There shall be salt, fossilized in the wounds of our hands

In our eye holes shall reside Dandi’s* dust

24 days, we stomped against the British monopoly on our land 240 miles we walked determined towards dawn of free life

‘What freedom?’ The ghost of Gandhi asks

Of children drenched in the same salt scarred with near perfect human art of violence

The work of oppression has advanced manifolds Dear Gandhi, non-violence is a protest of the lazy past

And — haven’t you broken humanity yourself Have you not heard the residue of your peace kill in Kashmir last night?

With salt — with our worker’s frame we build bombs and barrels we build men armed with rebellion we build women ready to slice lives

At the end of a long march Alas, our salt is born And this salt never ages, it grows into many forms

We are free of our colonial past working slowly and diligently towards turning our salt to sand

~

This poem is inspired by the Dandi Salt March, a 24-day march to Dandi as nonviolent protest against the British salt monopoly.

Dandi is a village in the Navsari District, Gujarat, India.

This poem is written in response to David S. prompt — Work. Thank you for this important nudge.