Midnight knock on the pin-dropp door
You have to replace a dead under-trial
Shall I put on a shirt/ Gulp a few morsels?
Slip off through the terrace/
Door-planks shatter and wall plaster flakes
Masked men enter and en-flank
'What's the name of that squint-eyed guy
Where's he hiding?
Speak up, or come with us! '
I choke in terror. Sir, yesterday at sunrise
He was lynched by a mob.
[Translation of Bengali poem Astitwa]