Partition

Amritpal Singh Arora



The Firangi drew a line in the dirt
soil fractured like
a cracked mirror
distorting god’s reflection

and borders that formed
from the absolute value of zero
were expected to contain infinity

The Firangi drew line in the dirt
Railway lines now crossed international boundaries and
train cars arrived carrying blindfolded crows
with bloodied beaks
indiscriminate of flesh

The Firangi drew a line in the dirt
and tablas and sitars fell silent
because there were no ragas written 
for being separated from one’s limbs
The echoes of music
once composed in harmony
evaporated and rained down in acid

The Firangi drew a line in the dirt
Mothers were singed with branding irons to their backs
Allah or Ram forced on their
tongues held
while watching their children get vaccinated against inefficient gods

The Firangi drew a line in the dirt
through which the blood red Ravi snaked
flushing the womb of two virgin nations
and even the monsoons could not wash
the brows of men
sweaty
from the work of rape
and the heat
of children roasting on spits 

The Firangi drew a line,
that was not theirs to draw,
in the dirt
which they bled dry
and left



Amritpal Singh Arora is a writer of poetry, working on his first collection. He is a family physician in Burnaby, British Columbia. His poetry is centered around themes of medicine, grief, domestic violence and navigating the world as a visible minority. His work has previously appeared in the Canadian Family Physician.