You ran pell-mell in the dark woods
On the shores of Kenya
I ran same way with the torn school bag
On the way to Thirumangalam* burial grounds…
(**A place near Madurai in South India)
When you thrashed out in Washington courts
I bickered with Vazhudhavur vanniars**…
(** Caste Hindus)
The dream of Dr. King was as lovely
As a smoked beef on a thatched leaf
Law of Manu and principles of Gandhi…smelted in the Cheri”s*** urine …
Like stinking cow dung…
(***Cheri is a slum where untouchable live)
The anger of Abraham Lincoln was a spine
For the dented American blacks…
Dr. Ambedkar”s fistful fury was
Our back up umbilical chord…
And a wet fertilizer on the roots
Of our lifeless vines…
When you called your formula CHANGE
We were eased that you understood
Our Father Ambedkar”s rebellious songs…
But your brash of Gandhi”s epic
Smelt like the puke of Pondicherry Anjapuli *^^
After his gulp of illicit arrack..
(^^*he is a drunkard)
You went to study law with an injury
Of thorn bite on your toes
I went to Delhi (JNU) with just a dollar in my custody…
As you looked exactly like my elder buddy
Anjalai amma* welcomed you to
Eat tapioca in a delicious dry fish curry…
(**Anjalai is mother of the poet)
You went to eat mutton with
Manmohan sing and witnessed
Doves in Humayun”s tomb…
But, Shivalingam** Thotti ***
Prepared soaked rice
In the left over sugar after
Burning human carcass…
(** Shivalingam is father of the poet
*** Thotti is a street cleaner who also burns human carcass in the burial
ground
You danced with Micheli Mathini )
In the TAJ after dinner with Ambani…
Our million people waited with
Parai^ and periamelam Munusami^*…
(*****elder brother“s wife*
*^ *Parai is the drum played by dalits *
^ a famous drum artist who plays big drum)
We invited you to see Ambedkar in out thatched hut
You went with Gandhi in the luxuriously simple chalet…
Come again … come again my elder brother
Our people are waiting to host you
With hand pound rice rolls
Our history of love and fraternity is the binding agent
With a dash of black Negroes” spiciness
Eat to your heart”s contentment
Let”s dance to the drum tunes of
Periamelam Munusamy
You choose the moonwalk of King of pop….
Casteist sadists queued up behind your buttocks
Not as a black …but as a president of US
In the shit feeding villages are the
Computer literate slaves
The Indian Negroes….
Yes their name still untouchable …..
For the first time Indian alligators chased
Crows with their right hand while eating***
**(Expression of showing sympathy)*
When your flight landed in Mumbai
Wily casteist Indians out cried
Obama….Obama….
With the intolerable pain of their whip
We cried appa amma **
***( Father mother) *
They blind folded you with black ribbon to thwart seeing us
You walked on the red carpet soaked in our blood…
You celebrated Diwali with oppressor maniacs
They didn”t even give us a torn cloth
To wipe oozing blood on our lynched ass…
No problem we will use the
Indian flag after removing Ashoka Chakra
Anna** Obama Anna Obama
**(*Elder brother) *
You know there is also salt in
The food prepared with the money
Of Anjalai”s sweat on weeding and
Sivalingam”s funeral pyre drum coolie…
Even this poem is the begging bowl from that money…
When you returned from Delhi every one shouted
Obama….Obama…
I cried alone near the India Gate (Delhi) …..
Appa … ammaa…
(Father Mother).
……………………………………………..
(Written by Dr. VEERAMANI, during brother Mr Presidents’s visit to India)
(Translated by Raju Arumugam, Humphrey fellow, University Michigan, USA)
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