Apartheid

colour descrimination - success in life

Apartheid

 

“Teacher! Can I give the bouquet to the Chief Guest?”

“No. You can’t. We have already selected someone else.”

and soon she realized the difference between

her and that ‘someone else’ … her tan.

Emptying tears and blood into the gorges of history

it plays chiaroscuro on the path of life…

She wanted to cry hoarse

That soul is superior to the shuck.

With reddened eyes and swollen face

she silently departed

collecting all her prizes.

Ten years later…

Nobody understood why

the Chief Guest

after finishing her speech

walked down to a student

with reddened eyes and swollen face

placed the bouquet in her hand

and patted her on shoulder before leaving.

They will never understand for another ten years to come.

Bolloju Baba, Telugu, Indian--   translated poem from Telugu by N.S. Murthy