Why a suicide of an IITian got national media attention?
What about the brilliant spirits playing guest roles in the society,
Hanging on to their degrees produced by not so popular colleges!
Huh! Who wants to know about them!
Trust me, no one.

It starts from the back benches in the class,
Reserved for creative unique specimens,
Tortured for everything they are not,
For everything they can’t be.

It ends in the first row,
Where toppers are scrutinized to excel,
Squeezed out of enthusiastic existence,
Existing, that’s it.

She lived in a country that defines caliber based on social strata,
Religion, gender and of tolerance towards biases,
She missed her home that night,
That space where books are hoarded.

Who wants to know what killed her?
Trust me, no one.

– Emily Parker

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