An Ode to Dr B R Ambedkar

In the tapestry of time, history became him. He wrote of equality, in the face of adversity. He wrote of a diverse nation, from the shackles of caste, sought liberation. He was hungry. He was hungry and just wanted to eat. He was lynched. He was hungry and he was lynched. A scholar, leader, visionary so bright. Fighting for the downtrodden, he showed his might. His legacy stands with drafting the Constitution. He moved mountains with his silent revolution. In front of a Hindu temple. The temple built on the foundation of inclusivity and tolerance. He was a kid. A sense of hope ran across India. Hope for a just and equal society. A guiding light for the rights of diversity, a priority. His name was Ishaq. He was killed because he took one banana from the ‘Prasad’. He was Muslim. If he walked amongst us in today’s realm, would his heart weep, overwhelmed? For the world he envisioned, just and fair, is now polluted by division, history stands bare. “I have lost everything,” says the father. Ishaq, meaning love, lost his life to hate. Hate so ingrained that it does not let people breathe. In the depths of pain and misery, Where do we stand? Amidst the crowd, do justice we demand? So, tell me, this morose, unforgiving night, do we seek the dawn or wait for the unattainable light?