Wet with repentant weeping and remorse, your sighs and sobs saddening, breaking me.
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None but the fanatics are the worst people
The most satanic people ever bornBe they of whatever religionThe fanatics, zealots and bigots,The blindly faithfuls,God knows who is how much holy?
And for truth, for the sake of truth,
A king never born,Never will be born againAnd the gods putting him to test,Giving troubles tobut he feeling not the pressure,Letting it go.O, lo, his son Rohit has been bitten by a snakeWhile picking flowersEarly in the morningAnd serving as a menialAnd the queen too unable to maintain herself,Everything but gone,Out of the hands, the…
Mother’s love,
Brother’s loveRemember I, remember IThem in my poetry,My mother,My sister,My brotherSo deeply.Where have they gone away,You say it to me?Why are you silent?Mother’s love,Sister’s love,Brother’s love, remember ISo tearfully and with wet eyes.
Where had I been when I was not in this world of the sun and stars,
You tell me,Can anybody tell?
If they engage in war
Anybody’s favour,If they clash withEach otherIt will not be goodEither for China or India.I hate themWho instigate for warAs it cannot peace.
Dalit literature,
Of the Dalits, by the Dalits or for the Dalits,A Dalit writing about a DalitOr a non-Dalit too,First answer you my question,By the Dalit only or by non-Dalit tooAs the emotion is same,What the agenda,What the motto behind,I mean,Who the manager, director, script writer,The commercial dealerOf the script of the playAnd the theatreAnd the poor…