Who Are We Waiting For?
by Ananya S. Guha / March 1st, 2026
It threatens to rain
the murky sky gets murkier
the hills wince under dark
grey skies
and the clouds overhead
swirl madly;
only gunshots pierce the
mind, as gunshots are a prevalent
artifice, threatening a luminous world,
animals cower at the deafening sound
only humans are brave, knowing death
is a easy process to leave the world
and, sanity.
Why gunshots,
why bombs
why this malfeasance?
Is peace only a vestige
of bedraggled bodies
in blood red tinted skies?
The hills are dead
with the sound of guns
who are we waiting for?
Ananya S Guha lives in Shillong in North East India, where he was born and brought up. He has been writing and publishing his poetry for the last forty years. His poetry has been published in both electronic and print formats such as: Indian Literature, Other Voices, Osprey Journal, Glasgow Review, The Literary Nest, Up The Staircase, Asia Writes, Art Arena, Praxis Online, Muse India, Your One Phone Call, In Between Hangovers, The Peeking Cat Magazine, Post Colonial Text among others. He has also written widely on educational and social matters. He has ten collections of poetry and his poetry has been anthologized in various collections of Indian poetry in English. He holds a doctoral on the novels of William Golding.
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This article was posted on Sunday, March 1st, 2026 at 8:00am and is filed under Poetry.
