THE STREETS ARE CALLING -Md. Kausar Uddin Ahmed

Hey bro, hey listen, listen carefully—
It’s July, and the heat isn’t just from the sun.
The whole country feels like it’s about to explode,
It should, cause we’ve been quiet for too long.

Merit means nothing if you don’t have connections,
Dreams get crushed under corruption’s directions.
Before leaving home, I did something I never thought I’d do—
Saved my phone wallpaper with all my info:

My photo, my name, department, university, age, blood group,
Four emergency contacts, who knows how this goes down?
It sounds dramatic, but that’s where now we’re,
Where stepping out feels like heading into war.

Uni wasn’t happening anyway—protests everywhere,
So I grabbed my bag, and headed there.
The streets were alive, buzzing with energy,
We’re raising our voices and fists, full of intensity.

Hope spreading faster than fear could tire.
Hey Police, hey RAB, hey fire us, fire.
At the protest line, we stood our ground,
Fearing neither them nor the firing sound.

Their vans rolled in, but we didn’t flee,
We held our ground in fierce unity.
Fists to the sky, we roared from the scar:
“Tumi ke? Ami ke? Rajakar! Rajakar!”

When I got home, Ammu’s eyes were tight with fear,
“Why’d you go without a word? Don’t go again, my dear.”
That night, sleep didn’t come easy,
Images of the protest replayed, making me uneasy.

Tomorrow’s uncertain, who knows what’s next?
More marches, more fights, more more harder tests.
But one thing’s clear—we’re not backing down,
Not until the insaf wears the crown.