it is Hema, I hear
grumbling,
“It is not my mistake , not
my mistake, anyway,”
on and one she goes.
Cannot find any mistakes.
I am worried as she
gesticulates, sobs, finally spills out,
“born dark is not a sin”.
Do I hear her right?
Thrown out by the girl’s hurt
I take a quick look at mine.
More or less the same tone, I feel.
nothing ugly , anyway, I think,
wheatish complexion.
The racism, one faces,
where skin takes
predominance saddens me.
Proficiency in language, the other
takes a back seat,
if you are slightly dark.
The regional influence
might at times overlap.
not a drawback as perceived
confides Hema,
“Hema. mastering a language
is an art. Slips and defaults,
spellings and missing
punctuations are seen
in everyone’s . natives have too many,”
Cheering her, I console myself
recollecting my experiences
relating to colour, usage,
writing skill, Yes. I have travelled
with humiliations catching up
Meenas Poems 