The Suicide note of a Low-caste Hindu Man

You were voluble
When you talked of love.

You said, was eternal.
Nay, divine! -something beyond eternity.

I couldn’t get you,
For I never knew your God,
Nor heaven.

I was naive;
None lied to me till that.

Our Gods lived in roofless temples,
Sacred groves,
Sometimes slept beside us.

You were voluble, than you were about love,
When you talked of God.

His legacies, His kindness.
He was invisible, invincible.

And we together made a mansion,
In a seashore
Using only sand.

Yet it was beautiful, Like a castle,
With space enough for our dreams to dwell.

You loved your father
And we had a room in our mansion
For him to reside, If he wanted to come.

But why were your gods angry
When our souls in unison
Brought our bodies together?

Why violence, arson attacks
In the name of your generous Gods?
And why you finally left me
destroying the castle of our dreams?
I Quit.
I renounce gods- yours, mine.
I embrace love.


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