Meal At Dalit's Home Poem by Ajit Das

The entire village was agog:
an important person coming to dine
at the house of a poor Dalit.
There was big commotion rising
from slow pitch to high crescendo.

A spurt of activity followed:
the lane in front of the house cleaned,
watered; garbage removed.
A portable generator was installed
to provide power uninterrupted.

Furniture, carpet, electric fans
were all arranged to make
the dining room comfortable
for the honoured guest
to savour food along with the Dalit.

The D-day came; the big man arrived;
garlanded in the flash light
of the clicking cameras, he stepped
into the house, sat on the mat,
shared meal served by the host.

The event came to an end.
The guest left; the motorcade departed,
leaving a feeling of afterglow
that evaporated with the dying day.
Silence deepening fell on the deserted lane.

The cynical query about who paid
for the elaborate arrangements
may be brushed aside as pettifogging.
But discerning eyes raised a question:
who was ‘liberated'- the ‘host' or the ‘guest'?

*Dalit - downtrodden, untouchable