To the ruler, the oppressor
I am but a woman – battered and helpless
My education, my accomplishments are insignificant
I have no voice, no home
My place is only at the feet of the ruler
But why is it so? I am a citizen of this
independent India
I
belong to this continent called Asia
I
belong to this humanity to this world
I am fenced in
For
centuries after century
I am forever bereft of human rights
The road ahead is inviting
I have kept retreating long enough
And now my back is against a wall
So this is the time I stand upright
And walk forward
This is the time to break fences
Time to get my rights
When I was born
There
was no discriminatory mark on my body
Nobody
is born like that
Every word out of my pen will adorn me with
hundred arms
And
thousand weapons
In my hands
With
those weapons
Will
be defeated those high caste rulers
The sky, the wind will be filled with the
lightening of my revolt
That fire will burn the audacious head of the
ruler.
The great song of equality will echo everywhere
The thread of friendship will tie all lives
3
The
leaders keep losing the ideologies
We
know that, yet
We
take the great leap
The
leader finds success – exploiting the workers’ fate
They pose
as the dalit’s friend and exploits the dalit’s fate
Yet we
believe in their brightly packaged ideologies
The
hopeful mind gets hurt
The
workers- the dalits remain where they were
The
only who climbs the ladder of success are the leaders
Holding
hand with the landlords or the dalit haters
We
applaud
Some
of us know it all
Some
don’t
This
is a paiful time
A time
of frauds and liars
To the
middle class
Peaceful
fraud is acceptable
A
compromise for some small benefits
Why
disrupt peace by exposing the frauds?
Let
them gulp down all they want. What is it to you?
It is the
government’s chore
The
Government! Who is that! Where does he stay?
My
opportunist friend keep talking
Little
do they know
Still
we share a fake laugh
And we
talk
All
alone
5
They barred my grandfather
From
entering the school
My father was barely allowed
To learn to write his name
Only on leaves with charcoal
My mother had to carry cow dung
To obtain prasad
from the temple after durga puja
Did you not know?
She was to clean the space she stood in with
cowdung
For the dung, the holy cow dung
Was a lot more pure than the dalit’s foot print
In my office, my colleagues use words like
‘chamar, chanral, dom’ for slander.
It seems they have completely forgotten that
these are also races
The gentlemen , my colleagues, they seem to
have forgotten that
There may be dalits in other parts of the world
, but not here –
There may be racism in the rest of India, but
not here –
They grab my neck and teach me
Say – we are all one
Nothing happens here
After getting to work for one generation
They are abolishing reservation
Strangling my neck they say ---
If you ask for reservation in private sector
There will be nothing worse
Say it – that we don’t need anything more
We have got everything
(original authors mamata mandal, kalyani thakur)