Bruised, but not Broken (poems)

-Challapalli Swarooparani 

33. The Darkest Cloud

I’m the Tusker
My self-confidence
Full fathom high
Strength is my address-line
Style, my instinct
Caparison my self-esteem
My name: a Tusker

I’m the heroine
Who infuses blood
Into the veins of my
Emaciated race!

The ready high-tech weapon in the hands of
My father, Ambedkar.

I may be playing a game of ball
With little children
Yet I know how to trample
Those devotees who create hullabaloo,
Under my feet!

I’m the Tusker whose ears
Only listen to the song of stars
And not to sorrow’s woeful bark.
Nobody needs train my trunk
To fling off canny foxes
Into the nether regions.

I’m the radar that detects
The ‘good gentleman’, a ‘false ghost’
Who shuts the eyes of a child.

I’m not a dull head
But a brilliant intellectual
My mentor is that luminary wizard
Of wisdom
Who taught me to distinguish
Truth from falsehood.

I’m the Tusker
Courage of conviction
Is my trumpet
My form is the darkest cloud!

(Telugu: “Rajakeeya Prakatana”, translated by N.R.Tapaswi and published on Face Book Timeline of the author.)

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(To be continued-)

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