i have no word of welcome for you,
o saffron sun of the new millennium !
no beating of drums
no blowing of trumpets
nor will i go ga-ga on the gala-eve.
whether you rise from the deep romantic chasm of the Konark apsara
or from the shaft of the Koteshwar ling,
you are no longer the global God :
the messiah sent on the perennial mission
of shining on all and sundry
distributing fraternity, liberty and equality.
you were sent to herald a new day everyday
with a ray of hope for each and everyone.
but you fell prey to the prayers,
succumb to the shlokas
enamoured of the enchanting riches
tempted by the Aryan offerings
shed all your rainbows to dye in saffron.
you disowned us dalits
and called it a day.
you now shine on the shrines and skyscrapers
and never even peep into our pits:
treating us as untouchables.
you made them citizens,
make them netizens
ousting us as the denizens of Narmadas
you made us churn the ocean
to have amrit for them
and poison for us.
father of all bio-diversity,
you are now the mere misled meteor
fallen from the pedestal
devoid of gravity and dignity
the savage son of the universe:
unjust and oppressive .
you are not y2k ok :
a corrupt, varna-virus-affected disk
unfit to be ushered in the next millennium
i curse you
you will diminish on each sob and sigh
of the despaired dalits
let me call Lorca's woodcutter
to cut your evil shadow falling on us
no, i won't bid farewell to your eve
nor shall i welcome your dawn.