Bikhandankari Kabita— by an Ungrateful SoB

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"Be proud! ", you say, " Of this never conquered land"
"How lucky you are to have birthed in the land of the Buddha"
"Of having shared the roof with the towering Everest! "
"Be grateful to the Kings that built this proud nation! "

You didn't have your language forced off of you
Your culture stripped off, History torn apart, burned and trampled on
You didn''t have your story rewritten to nothingness

You didn't have your blood shed into a river
Only to be valued less than a drop of water
You didn't have your skin fleshed threadbare to the bones
And had it replaced with that of the oppressors

And, yet when I say I  only want as much as what had been snatched away,
That I want to stand shoulder to shoulder,
That no more will I crawl beneath you,
That no more will I be kept silent

You call me a traitor,
You brand me an inciter of violence in this garden of peace,
In this garden of "unity in diversity"
In this garden that bore from the blood of the nameless,
You deny me the right to my existence,

But, be proud, you say. Be grateful you say. 


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