I Saw the Devil
He told me, “Fair is lovely, true,”
So I hated every shade I grew.
I scrubbed until the mirror cracked,
But still the devil stared right back.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
I wore a ring before sixteen,
Traded for dowry, sold unseen.
My books grew dust, my wrists wore steel,
No fairy tale, just flames and food.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He came in robes, he came with law,
And called my love a thing to flaw.
Said God won't bless the kiss I give,
But what is God if I can't live?
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He banned my books, he sealed my tongue,
Called my freedom “too far-flung.”
And when I bled to break the rule,
They built another silent school.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He called me "low" by name and caste,
And whipped me for my father's past.
Made me clean the world's disgrace,
Yet never dared to see my face.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
I saw him under Delhi's sky,
Where I screamed but wasn't heard to cry.
Steel inside me, silence out loud,
They burnt my shame, then cheered the crowd.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork.
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He stood outside my country's gate,
Where flags decide a child's fate.
A refugee with no more land,
Turned away by every hand.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He lived in homes that looked like mine,
In prayers I sang, in every line.
He grew in silence, thrived in peace,
And fed on every small decrease.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He wrote my fate with ink and bonds,
And sold it to the highest dons.
Democracy drowned in notes and files,
While justice ran for weary miles.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He bombed a school, then blamed a prayer,
Left children gasping in the air.
Wrote “collateral” on the dead,
And crowned himself in gold and red.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He came with chainsaws, greed, and oil,
And carved his name into the soil.
The forests wept, the rivers bled,
But still he dined while green turned red.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He wore a badge and crushed my breath,
Knee to neck, slow-choking death.
I begged the stars, I called for grace,
But he just stared into my face.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He wore a smile that cracked by night,
A war inside, out of sight.
They said, “Be strong, don't speak, endure,”
So he did—till he wasn’t sure.
False words cut deeper than a knife,
And silence slowly drained his life.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He stood beside me on the train,
Whispered jokes of caste and shame.
And I laughed, not out of hate,
But because it felt too small to break.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
I heard him at the dinner spread,
Mocking those who had raised their head.
No one flinched — not even me.
We let it pass so quietly.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He sat across my classroom row,
Mocked a name he didn't know.
And I stayed still — said not a word,
And watched the cruel become the herd.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
He made his home inside my chest,
Not with evil, just with rest.
I didn't kill; I didn't steal —
But I did nothing. That was real.
I saw the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
I looked into the mirror's truth,
Past my comfort, past my youth.
And there he stood — not fiend, not ghost,
But me, the one who watched the most.
I became the devil, no horns, no pitchfork,
Hands like mine, eyes like yours.
You may also like to read Magnanimous Mother by Yogesh Chander Sood, who beautifully narrates the life of a child who loses his mother at a young age. Also, Zero Tolerance Against Terrorism Trajectory by Dr. B.H.S Thimmappa. A powerful call for zero tolerance against terrorism—urging global unity, strategic action, and diplomacy to combat extremism and ensure peaceful coexistence.
