Delhi Smog Poem by Bernedita Rosinha Pinto

Don't run here these autumn mornings
as my own lungs feel heavy while I breathe and sleep;
it is not about the air, it is not about Delhi
it is about the smog floating around the city;
fires from the burning fields, smoke from industries
every dust particle mingles with the purity of nature
depriving little infants from breathing fresh air
also, preventing children from going to school;
the old and elderly in suffocation sit asking themselves-
is this the city where our President, our Prime Minister lives,
is this where our Parliament House, our Supreme Court stands tall
to allot final justice?
Is this the capital which brings demonetization
to curb the hoarding of black money?
Is this the value of Aadhaar cards and Health cards
which enables people to take care of their health and identity?
Is this the price of their dedication to their Government
which makes people gasp for breath
while they walk their own streets by birthright?
Is this a way of life or a way of death?