if
that’s the order, we bow our heads in obedience :
we will call flowers by any other name, will their fragrance die?
and will call these denizens flowers, will their stench go?
and will call these denizens flowers, will their stench go?
the
old saying may turn only subtler :
where there is a village, there is a phoolwado, a colony of flowers.
where there is a village, there is a phoolwado, a colony of flowers.
these
flowers remained shut and shrunk in dark centuries.
if they got full moon night by chance, they bloomed like lilies.
sometimes spread fragrance like ratrani buds,
sometimes would sob silently like the flower of nargis.
if they got full moon night by chance, they bloomed like lilies.
sometimes spread fragrance like ratrani buds,
sometimes would sob silently like the flower of nargis.
no sooner did the benign sun of this century
begin to shine upon them but
than they began blooming and blushing :
than they began blooming and blushing :
with
such colors, that even butterflies would fall in love with them.
with such fragrance, that even honeybees would forget to sting them.
everywhere roams the fragrance of these rustic flowers :
in parliament, secretariat, schools and colleges !
as if their eerie exhalation has
engulfed the entire environment.
that where there is a village, there is a phoolwado, a colony of flowers,
we know and we respect our forefathers’ wisdom.
with such fragrance, that even honeybees would forget to sting them.
everywhere roams the fragrance of these rustic flowers :
in parliament, secretariat, schools and colleges !
as if their eerie exhalation has
engulfed the entire environment.
that where there is a village, there is a phoolwado, a colony of flowers,
we know and we respect our forefathers’ wisdom.
but
we canno longer tolerate this temerity and tamasha of these flowers.
let them enjoy loitering in the President's Moghul garden.
but no, they cannot enter the holy precincts of Nathdwara.
let Gandhi put them on his head as pious flowers, if he so wishes.
let them enjoy loitering in the President's Moghul garden.
but no, they cannot enter the holy precincts of Nathdwara.
let Gandhi put them on his head as pious flowers, if he so wishes.
ah,
trample them, crush them,
these untouchable,filthy flowers.
but how will we offer pooja without flowers?
how will we decorate the swings of Lord’s manorath?
how will we pacify our gluttonous goddess, the big belly?
these untouchable,filthy flowers.
but how will we offer pooja without flowers?
how will we decorate the swings of Lord’s manorath?
how will we pacify our gluttonous goddess, the big belly?
with
the blooming labours of these flowers,
aromatic become our latrine-like lives.
these are the heavenly flowers, the parijats of our planet.
aromatic become our latrine-like lives.
these are the heavenly flowers, the parijats of our planet.
that’s why we shall have to nurture
every
colony of these flowers
in every village, and every city
in every village, and every city
as we nourish
silkworms on the shetur plants.
if the
government maibaap orders, we kneel down before you :
we will call flowers by any other name.will the fragrance die?
and we will call these dalit denizens flowers instead.
will the stench go?
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