The end of these two years
With people you didn't become friends with
But became familiar nonetheless
When you arrived, you were so self-absorbed
with your aching heart and your little girl dreams
The world has spun a few hundred times since then
Spring has come and gone
You have spiralled into a brave new world
You have dared to raise your voice
which you should have raised all those wasted years of the past
Mostly people you didn't punch in the face
Mostly the times you ignored indignities
or forgave them because they were friends,
excused them their racism, their impunity,
their coal black hearts and their empty minds.
You will never do that again.
They always tell you not to carry hate in your heart
But that is only for the privileged ones
Never having endured social-historical insults all their lives
How would they know what we go through?
To know that our memories had been wiped quite clean
systematically through education
This country doesn't care for the millions of adivasis
whose land is forcibly taken away and sold to corporates,
They only care for eleven men winning a match.
Because it is no longer alright to look away
To be complicit in this vicious terrible silence
This brahmin raj calls us savages, barbarians, uncivilised
But far better to be savages than to be humans like you.