(c - Baba Amte - 1994) The Rebel Poem by Kannan G

As every child he too was full
Of pranks and fun and play;
With vibrant eyes and vibrant hands
He made his childhood gay.

A rebel raised his voice in him
When just a little lad!
His compassion for the weaker ones
Had made him bear the bad.

With sacred thread upon his chest
He mingled with the low;
And though at this his father would
Lo, treat him as a foe!

With silver spoon in mouth though born
This sturdy, stubborn child –
He ate at times with servant boys
And made his father wild!

And as he grew into a youth
The fights in him too grew;
And as he would to none subdue
For him more fights were due.

His father wanted him for law
His estates to maintain;
He wanted medicine instead
To relieve others’ pain.

But lo, in this his father won
And thought he tamed his son!
But oh, the spirit deep in him
Its vision could not shun!

And so as days and years went by
With strength to break away
His share of power and pelf he gave
And walked away one day!

To beaten lives and shattered souls
A pilgrimage he led;
And armed with love and sacrifice
He fought his way ahead!

Tradition, custom, time and all
Defied he with reason!
Against all narrowness and fears
A battle great he won!