why
the blood of a panther howls into my veins ?
i
am the son of my mother -
i
was hurled out of my mother’s womb
into
the pool of blood when somebody kicked her dead.
people
say,
that
orphan lump of flesh was brought up
in
the ashram of rishi Ambedkar
believing
it to be a spark of fire.
there
also goes a hush hush story in the dalit basti :
the
hormones of Martin Luther King’s angelic soul
were
injected into my blood
as
an experiment of struggle.
that’s
that and that’s all.
but
i am the son of my grand father -
why
i play with a live bomb in the shuttle of our pit-loom
oh,
what if my hut may catch fire ?
or
some neighbor may get burnt ?
o
from where did I inherit this wild blood ?
my
father was a poor servant in the cemetery.
he
buried many a corpse.
i
am the son of my father
and
will i have to bury them alive?
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