‘Migrant workers at a shelter near Dadri railway station’; Express photo by Gajendra Yadav. (https://www.instagram.com/p/CAdEpJ3nir8/)

I am the Extreme you Don’t See, When will you Design for Me?

Meru Vashisht
TinkerShare
Published in
2 min readAug 23, 2020

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You realised you had missed me

Only when I was featured on your TV

Walking from one state to another

Barefoot somewhere inbetween

But you see- I was always missing

Have you seen me at the voting

Ever since I left home

To be a migrant at eighteen?

I live on the margins, on the fringes

I am the extreme you didn’t see

And you never designed for me

Much like your chappals I was wearing

Which didn’t last my journey.

You term it as a co-morbidity

Only when we face an unknown disease

You acknowledge my asthma

And my regular breathing difficulty

But you see- it was always occurring

Even my granddad was suffering

While being treated for a tumor

He lost the battle to his breathing.

He wasn’t the mainstream patient

He was the extreme you didn’t see

You never designed for him

Much like your claustrophobic spaces

Where he couldn’t breathe.

You say you couldn’t have foreseen

The silent pandemic, my muffled scream

As I got locked in my house

Where abuse was routine

But you see- I was always hurting

Did you ever hear me say, I am working

From home, today?

Not during period pains or rains.

I live in the shadows you never reached

I am the extreme you didn’t see

And you never designed for me

Much like your productive remote meetings

Where my perpetrator sits behind the screen.

I don’t influence the larger numbers

I am not the mainstream

Invisible until exposed

I am the extreme you don’t see

Will you ever design for me?

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