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?
Copyright © Manya Saxena | Year Posted 2024
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