Tyranny – Day Ten of NaPoWriMo

He drinks angrily from his bottle
until he can forget the smell.
The smell of all the waste and filth
born in this city of hell.

As he sleeps that night,
he dreams of a past full of dreams.
Dreams that were shattered to pieces
by society’s hostile screams.

The next morning, he wakes up,
hoping that at least today he shall find work.
The work he was fated to by an accident of birth –
the evil of caste that beneath our veil of equality lurks.

He walks across the street ignoring
the faces that cover themselves to escape his stench.
The stench that he is forever cursed with –
a punishment that remains in his blood entrenched.

A filthy septic tank awaits him that day,
filling every inch of his body with an acute sense of dread.
Dreadful yet are the faces of his children –
the fear of yet another day leaving them unfed.

He enters the sewers, fearing for his life,
cleaning the human waste of the land that has him dehumanised.
Toxic fumes suffocate him like humanity’s final blow –
his identity reduced to a newspaper report, his soul ruthlessly sacrificed.

A man picks up the newspaper the next day,
reading about the necessity of reservations.
He shakes his head in disapproval and says,
“The tyranny of caste will ruin the progress of this nation.”

 

— Written by Sudarshan Sivakumar for MTTN

— Featured Image by Sindhura Lukka

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