Brahmin's Pagletgiri Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Brahmin's pagletgiri
Which but saw I in my Bihar
Never liked I
Nor appreciated it all
As for excess of everything is bad
During the solar and the lunar eclipses
Make you not food,
Nor take you
And even if after the spectacle over,
Take you a bath, wash the utensils
And start your business,
Use you not fallen flowers
Even if fall they from hands
In worship,
When you get your hair cut
Enter you not the house
Until you take a bath,
Cut you not your hair and beards
On Thursdays and Saturdays,
Go you not out on Thursdays
After 12 noon,
From whose hands water can be used
And whose not,
Who a touchable fellow,
Who an untouchable,
This discrimination,
Even in them
Who is a higher clan Brahmin,
Who a lower clan Brahmin,
Why is the cat weeping,
The dog wailing during the night,
The black bird ruffling the leaves
And making harsh sounds,
Auspicious and inauspicious in it all,
If some close relative has died,
Dislodge you all the earthen utensils
In food making use,
In which dish to keep
The objects of worship,
Flowers, sweets, bel leaves,
In a brass or copper plate,
Never use a steel one,
During the funeral ritual
Give them a feast
With five types of sweets
To their fill
Even selling your things
Or mortgaging lands,
The foolish, blunt Brahmins,
My brethren who like
The Indian villagers and rural people
I never liked them,
Their superstition and backwardness.
Always discussing who a papi, who a dharmatama,
Who sinful, who a man of religion,
How to contradict papa,
Papa-punya, but say,
Who is not a papi, who a punyatama?