Led by Trupti Desai, you marched
On Shani Shingnapur as did the women
Of Paris on Versaille—to level
Yet another edifice of demeaning
Prejudice. Knowing that it is not
The mute, untouchable stone that
Made you untouchable, but
The proprietership of those who
The gods of their making own.
Wretchedly, they hide behind
The ignorant rage of other women
Whom they have made imbecile
Mannequins on a cunning stage.
However that be, know that on
Republic Day of twenty sixteen,
From a metropolitan hinterland,
Your shaming courage born of
A simple conviction advances India’s
Republican history irrevocably.
The sickening equivocation of Priest
Mullah, politician melt to a dross
Of gibberish in the fire of your reason.
In the days to come, surely, many
Other brazen citadels of crass denial
Are set to fall. Women of Shingnapur,
Your resolve this day has made
Many fearful foot soldiers in the
Fight for justice tall. Brave Trupti,
You have given to the nation
A piece of Rosa Park’s conversation.
Among heartbreaks and perfidies,
It is episodes of faith like t hese
That give purpose to our lives. Across
Centuries a good argument thrives.