Reservation Poem by Kanishka SricharanPratap

Reservation

Rating: 5.0


At midday
In screw-pine bushes
Delivered me
Those leaders.

By my name
Looted vote,
Sat on chair,
Ate...,
Country is empty!

You voter
Hindu voter
Without killing me
From root
Took care... Fed...,
Got empty!

Now I am a great tree!

Now time of civil war!

You will be hewed!
Again
Country will be
Divided!


Translation from Odia by
Subash Chandra Mohapatra

Thursday, December 27, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: social
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Kanishka SricharanPratap

Kanishka SricharanPratap

Cuttack, Odisha, India
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