Are we really hollow, shallow folks, stuffed with straw?(based on a line from TS Eliot’s The Hollow Men)

That jarring, incoherent lilt of hollowness—

The lanterns hung on those hollow beams,

The bamboos that held the tent at the oasis,

The sparkling sand grains spread over miles,

The barren expanse dotted with cacti,

Uninhabited wasteland, sans life.

Hollowness, caught in a deadly snare,

Vacuum echoed with melancholic air.

The rib cage held a bloodied stone,

Unaffected by human pain.

Flimsy enough to fear the wrath,

Succumbed to the drying spell,

Unknown to the geography of hunger,

Ignorant of the economics of education,

Blinded to the injustice around,

Maimed to reason that might be sound,

Choked to avoid resistance,

Reduced to basic life and sustenance,

Stuffed with straw of false narratives.

The hollow bones often tremble;

The winds of fear that do rumble.

We crackle with a hollow fury.

Barely audible are those whimpers,

While the culprits shout and simper.

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Nivedita Roy is a storyteller without borders, a teacher who shapes minds by day and a writer who captures life in all its forms by heart. She drifts effortlessly between poetry, prose and reflection, guided not by rules but by emotion. Rooted in music, nourished by books, and inspired by the quiet complexities of human relationships, she doesn’t just observe life, she translates it. She has published 8 books in both languages which include poetry collections, short stories and a book of essays on contemporary political and social issues.