This Birth Is Homework Poem by Madhav Sarkunde

People say I am an oddball
or an unfit note in melodies
they say I am sitting in the tree
of which roots are in the skies;
I talk to heaps of ashes.

To them, I am a square peg
in a round hole, even so I love
them all and they pile me with
allegations of such oddities.

People are good, very good,
they are honest and sincere...
they do what their fathers did
I ask my father for evidences.

I do not know myself full yet
I am rooting about my shores
from time immemorial now...
and find a new me each time.

People also accuse me of drinking
Yes, I am an inveterate drunkard
I drink straight champagne of life,
the life choked with young ecstasy
my inner stupor makes me stagger,
to save myself from falling I drink.

I know why they call me a freak
they want to fashion me like them
they want to make me a scarecrow
No! I will not follow people a step
I will follow my own voice, I know
this birth of mine is homework -
for a still higher one waiting for me.

Let people say what they want to
I will not budge an inch from
the promise to fill this reed with songs.