New | Poems : A New Dalit Poet, Manu's Sons, Saap Chidi, Saviours, Master and His Dogs, The Children, Him and Her | Dipak Barkhade

Diego Rivera, Triumph of the Revolution

 

 

(1)

A New Dalit Poet

I don’t want to write a long poem,

I live in a small Dalit basti.

My poem expands because

the gutter of this city deepens

its manhole.

My poem, like my basti expands

and makes me

a New Dalit Poet in the city.

Friends from downtown buy my words

if not my touch.

My service, if not my shadow.

Look at my brother,

he takes out a four wheeler

owned by the Municipality.

He carries on his back

a tanker of social dirt.

Where does he ease himself down?

The load of his caste is

normalized

at the traffic signals.

The performance of his identity is

conditioned

at the cross of Hindu circles

in the city.

 

(2)

Manu’s Sons

Like Dronacharya

and his students gheraoed an Adivasi,

They found me

in the forest of university.

They shared their views

with the cunning

of hiding their gaze on me.

They tossed their elbows to confirm

a rank above me.

They cheered their toes

beneath the table

to celebrate my agony.

They did ask me,

in return,

a thumb of my love.

They are Manu’s sons.

They lock the doors

of knowledge,

I stand outside a poem:

the ink is cold in my veins,

the pen is dried in my throat

and the page,

starved in my stomach.

I don’t knock,

I resist Manu’s doors.

I don’t travel to,

I migrate from

the land of my poem.

Remember, Manu’s sons!

Adivasi men speak English

like the birds never migrate

in their home.

They write physics and science

in their poems.

When Dalit boys polish the shoes

of Adivasi lords and lands,

they grow to polish language

in a world, alien to them.

 

(3)

Saap Chidi

The present poem is about

the subsidy colony of my caste.

My people call it saap chidi.

But it is written on papers:

Pradhanmantri Gramin Avas Yojana.

My people live at the outskirt of village.

But they are impressed

by the Panchayat kind of place.

I have become a student

of elite campuses,

living now, a long distance away.

Yet I recall saap chidi

in my people’s way.

I witness a battle between

saap and chidi

encountering each other

in a segregated society.

Note: saap (snake) chidi (sparrow)

 

(4)

Saviours

Saviours taught me to resist

oppression.

I wonder why

they didn’t teach me to eat

my oppressor

raw.

 

 

(5)

Master and his Dogs

There are some dogs

sold at heavy rates.

There are many

available with no price tag.

When the free dogs have

a Master with the promise of love

and care,

I hate watching

the free dogs salivate,

lick, bark and move

their tails.

The Master is a big man.

But I hate his dogs.

His dogs and me,

we belong to the same place.

 

(6)

The Children

My grand-mother was

a widow shoe-maker,

she tanned

humanity in her hands.

Now, the children of tanning

mother carry the odour

of leather.

They skin the past

of oppression.

 

(7)

Him and Her

He builds plans for future,

she said it is now or never.

She likes gold, his silver is lost.

They both have their grounds.

Dreams, he keeps in store

for no life, he’s lived before.

Wars, she fights against

for no freedom, she’s been gifted.

She covers him

in a quilt of life

that his ancestors weave

in imaginary times.

 

 

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