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Glyphs & Graphs is a writing experiment by Naveen Srivatsav - an attempt at hypertext wordplay, intentionally amorphous thought experiments non-committal to any specific genre or topic. Enjoy, and feel free to reach out via social media.

You can always hate me tomorrow

You can always hate me tomorrow

Tlawmngaihna, an untranslatable word used by the people of Mizoram, India. It is a code of social ethics, which a Mizo lives by, that calls on each and every individual to be hospitable, kind, unselfish and helpful to others.

Tlawmngaihna, an untranslatable word used by the people of Mizoram, India. It is a code of social ethics, which a Mizo lives by, that calls on each and every individual to be hospitable, kind, unselfish and helpful to others.

i want to ask white supremacists what it means to them to be white

what part of the human experience are they able to access when they feel so white

what angers them about all that is not white

why would a white god put anything but white people on god's good white earth

 

 

i want to ask neo-nazis what their ideal world is like

not on the foretold day of great victory, but just a lazy sunday a century after final independence

what would never happen again ever, that is worth fighting for

that is worth dying for

that is worth killing for

 

 

i want to ask the alt-right why their opinion of the liberal agenda should be the loudest one of all

what the right to free speech means if all their speech is only ever "ironic"

what their honest heart-on-sleeve take is on how they're feeling

right here, right now, in there

 

 

yes you

i'm talking to you,

looking into your eyes, deep down

not the name, not the costume

not the avatar pic or the clever nick

the person deep inside

past the blood and beyond the flesh

don't run, i mean no harm

you can always hate me tomorrow

but just for now,

shall we declare a truce, and talk

 

just talk, really talk

not about ideals or statistics

not about alternate histories or imaginary futures

just me and you

let's talk about the lives we've had

our earliest memories, our darkest fears

a tour of the highlights and the doldrums

(life huh, it gets us all in the end)

 

what's the hurry brother

you can always hate me tomorrow

please won't you stay a while longer

what do you have to lose

except the weight of

the axe that will never be sharp enough

no matter how much you grind

it seems like quite a burden

to carry; why not get some rest

 

i want to ask you if you know someone you love

more than anything in the world

and your fondest memories of that person

no really, i'm genuinely curious to know

why that person means so much to you

that you would even give your life to protect the other

love is truly a precious resource

refreshing fulfilling manna, sweet nectar

to bear the burdens of life

psst you want to hear a secret

i've learnt

love isn't found, it is grown

 

 

i want to tell you i can relate to that

 

 

i want to tell you i feel strongly too

i want to tell you all i've learned in life so far,

the hardest lessons and the sweetest joys

that i secretly admire people with all the answers

to all the big questions

how illuminating it must be

to see clearly without doubt or anxiety

and how urgent it must feel

to have to set the world aright as it should be

single-handedly

 

me, i'm barely hanging on

trying to make sense of it all

can't always tell left from right

let alone right from wrong

all i know is the sudden pang i feel

heart drops, stomach turns, spirit dies a little death

when i witness an injustice

every muscle and fiber in my body compels me to act

so i shout weakly, perhaps too meekly

hashtag not in my name

but maybe i'm just a coward to not put my own body down

on the line that must not be crossed

frankly i'm not even sure half the time

if i'm a good person deep inside

or pretending really really well

 

 

can you relate to that

 

 

oh look at the time

dawn is coming, you have to go

it's time to pick up your axe and hate again

you know what

we might meet soon after all, you and i

i will be on the line

the line that must not be crossed

i changed my mind

 

no i'm not any braver

but honestly i'm not sure  

if i could live with myself knowing

when circumstances required my participation so badly

i didn't act

that my inaction could only be read as a decision

to be complicit

even if in the most banal or petty of evils

i don't think i can bear my memoir to be

a self-satisfied "i survived"  

so just to be sure

i'll be on the line

the line that must not be crossed

 

even then, don't be a stranger

come say hi

you can always hate me tomorrow

sing weave and dance

sing weave and dance

Perfection is a poem

Perfection is a poem