In Which Language Poem by Gajanan Mishra

So many languages are there,
And in which language you are
Going to speak that I asked.
So many languages;
The enemy language,
The stone language,
The snow language,
Blood language,
Water language,
Air language,
Friendly language,
Love language
So on and so forth.
And with your language,
You are sucking everything,
Making me undressed,
Making me pauper,
And forcing me to go on
Foreign land to fill up
The belly as the bonded laborer.

In your language
All my dreams faded out.
In your language
Nothing left to me.
In your language
I have lost my identity,
In your language
I am a laughing stock
In the eyes of the world.
You are really the black sheep
Of my family, my state.
You are no9t at caring
And all my mother, sisters, daughters,
Brothers, and relatives
Are dying and dying.
You believe in blarney,
And I have nothing to say.
No one is there to save you,
And you are going to die.