5/4/2024, Vaishali, Bihar
In a society where I live,
Pride is a class identity,
And pain is a class identity again.
The color of people is cast
Into white, brown, and black,
All shades of the same soil.
People born as kings, servants, or watchdogs.
I live in a village of divided lands—
Bhumihar fields, Mallah shores, Nunia, Teli, Sonar,
Brahman, Rajput, split like crops on the farm.
I belong to the Nai—
A class of servants, kings, and watchdogs, all in one.
The air hums with stories of the Nanda Dynasty,
Pride wrapped around our class like armor.
Yet, sorrow lingers in the gaze of those
Whose eyes are heavy with dirtied dreams.
I live in a society where identity is seen
In color, cloth, and words—
Old roots buried deep like the broken tree
By Abhishek Pushkarini,
Which falls, like us, at the feet of the upper class.
My tearful words often seem lost,
As each passing day etches more pain into hearts.
But these small hands carry the strength to resist
The cruel stares of a classed society.
In a society where I live,
Pride is a class identity.
Categories:
rajput, anger, deep, history, jealousy,
Form: Free verse
From
Far sky
Falling down
The brightest star
By crude frustration
On alone ground;
Silent fire
Lost in
Feet!
14.06.2020
****
On the sadistic immature death of Sushant Singh Rajput (21 January 1986 – 14 June 2020) , Bollywood Star
Categories:
rajput, death, depression, suicide,
Form: Ninette
Muslim came, Christian came, and they gave their separate fame
Maratha, the Rajput, the Mughal has done, to increase its name.
Buddha came; Mahavira came, wishing always India’s fate.
Aryan came, Dravidian, All gave the words of praise,
All came and gone, India always for all,
Land made no distinction at all.
Spread love is the message for all
As my country greater of all
Love made no difference that’s all.
Categories:
rajput, history, love,
Form: Rhyme