I hear our India
has a new President
A Dalit will be
the next Raisina resident,
Whose power will
extend to the ends
From Kashmir’s snow
to ocean’s waves
From the salty
plains to brave Naga hills
Let’s hope, us
down-trodden he saves!
In a village, a
damp mud- hut of pain
That leaked
profusely during a rain
My! How hard his
life must have been!
What, I wonder, was
the magic wand,
That changed his
dwelling into a palace!
And his lowly life
into a royal brand!
Will our life
mutate for his kingly state?
Will peace and
prosperity be our mate?
Will no one now cane
our backside bare?
Will our girls be
safe from lust assault?
Will our thatched
roof not be torched?
Will all
injustice on us and insults halt?
Dream not, he’s
just a flag on power hill
Expect him not,
your poor field to till
He’s been lifted
by his potent creator
To whom he’d ever
be reverently bent
Lick and slurp,
my fortunate lot in huts
One of your own
to the throne is sent!
Tues, July 25, 2017
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