-Shraddha Acharya
Quest for Identity
Born as every in a similar cradle,
Grown in a certain grove,
Still don’t know where I belong.
If I were dark would you call me an Afro?
If white, an Anglo instead?
Nor I know colors neither tribes,
But red is my blood, blue are my veins.
Tell me now, what am I,
A Black or a White?
No Padre taught me the bible,
So weren’t any priest for Gita,
Never a monk for Tripitak,
Nor was Muhammad for Quran.
But I always knew one, nothing so great;
Just it is a silent hymn for peace.
Tell me now where should I go,
Temple, Church, Gumba or Masjid?
What is dollar, how is rupees?
Is shining a diamond, are dull the rubies?
Though I try can’t smell these jewels,
But a bearer’s sweat and farmers plough
Are always fragrant to me.
Tell me now, what is worthy,
My labor or my rupee?
Zenith above, cores below all yell that,
I must introduce my name,
But poor fellows figured out never,
Here, my name introduces me.
If brown, rich and Hindu are my names,
Where does humanity fit in my ID?
Some queries may not be lucky to get answers,
But just a last query,
Where should I quest for my Identity?
Comments
Post a Comment