Do or Die.

Migrants have their migraines,
When a pandemic chases them
Through lanes and highways of
Pan India policies and prgrammes.
Homeless,jobless and penniless plights
Put them on their feet,without thoughts of
Distance and dire cry of hunger.
Migrants choose their walkways 
Like eateries have their takeaways.
Concrete mixers and container lorries
Become temporary hideouts of travel
To be caught in the middle,without map.

Flagrant violations are not meant for migrants.
Footfalls have their own pitfalls because,
Footing the bills of domestic migration
Was never listed in budgets of governance.
Here,streets are meant not only for stray cattle
And stray dogs,but also for men without meaning.
Slums exist to protect billionaire homes.
Pavements as homes of street dwellers,
Betray them to nocturnal drunken drives
Of imported billionaire bounties,on a pleasure hunt.
Migrants killed in road accidents add up to numbers
Of deaths,excluded from the list of pandemic mortality.
Independence is no illusion in my 'commonwealth' zone.
Migrant walking is a mark of freedom well executed;
Hence railway tracks become the right spots of execution.
And Justice can not interfere in matters of personal freedom.
It is a 'do or die' time for all and migrants are no exception.
P. Chandrasekaran.