That silent screaming we never hear in our daily lives
But always find around the corner
in the alleyway eyes,
in the broken voices wrapped in politeness.
It is the anthem of the ignored,
the rhythm of the invisible.
Not loud, but loud enough
If you ever dared to pause
and listen.
It belongs to the ones
who carry their grief like a second skin
the poor, the lost
The angry souls twisted by a world
that gave them nothing but mirrors
that never showed them, love.
They scream without sound,
bleed without blood,
and vanish in crowds
while standing right beside us.
Photo clicked during Indra Jatra, 5th September, 2025