Only in Translation...

I remembered the word
for communal violence
in Gujarati.
It came to me.
Subliminal.
As if
my memories were 
detached from my tongue,
prayer from my hands.
I typed my fear
with careful spelling
Because I don't live it.
I asked
with concern
because I can sleep
without fire
lapping at my dreams.
I remembered
hatred and agony,
but only in translation.
Red soil.
Separated.
Too long
from my feet.