The War in Ukraine | Sagari Chhabra

‘What is a catastrophe?’

asks my child.

‘When you turn humans

into wild cats and asses,

then hand each a trophy,

of arms.’

My child notes this

with a sense of calm.

Then turning her face towards me she asks,

‘What is a collateral damage?’

‘When you tell a grieving woman

the home she built

with all her savings,

has just been bombed

by a cluster’s shavings.

But why do you need to know this?’

I venture to ask.

‘I am doing my home task.

There are some blanks

my teacher has asked me to fill;

‘how many people

must we kill

to know we have

ended the ----- race?’

What should I write

in this space?’

‘Tell your teacher

there are some spaces

no one can ever fill.

How does one occupy

the void of a mother’s presence;

a child’s prattle,

who hears the bugle

of his father’s martyrdom

as a death rattle?

There are no blanks

when the shots are fired,

for the whole world

has been mired

in self destruction and grief;

stop this war

for the sake of our children

is my brief.

How many graves

will the soil bear;

how many rivulets of tears

will the wind dry,

turning to sigh,

when will they ever learn?’

Sagari Chhabra
2 March 2023