What Am I?
V Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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I was born from the womb of a lioness,
In the shed of buffalo, dipped in tropical water,
A distant dream to my enterprising parents,
They wanted a different thing, not as mine,
Crawling as the seashore crab, grown to be the sea shell,
Surrounded by the human who were fond of hell,
Archimedes was naked and shameless,
When he found the truth, dropped all ice blocks,
The painter was too great, could do many arts,
Not on the germ ridden bed, but on the fields,
I looked at him as a prince, my only envy, enemy and love,
In the whole world, roaming through the wheat field,
Bare footed, hungry and thinking of me,
Who would be born a few centuries later,
In a place nearer to South China Sea,
The innocent islanders no more dance to be alive,
Now they do business, harvesting the fuel and fruits,
After investing them for a few decades,
I am neither striped nor spotted,
To jump on the confused partners,
The culture of confusion mimic as the child,
The cow heads cornered all those bulls,
Sparing the cows of all those nightmares,
On the streets of naysayers, paper are thrown,
From the desk of horoscope, eaten by the calves
I am a child and dwarfed since young,
Walking through the modern buildings,
Beside the Indian made Ambassadors,
Crawl as the turtle, work as the Ironsmith,
Hitting the wrong metal all times,
Fierce are the words and the actions,
Flaring are their mannerism and imagination,
The land full of icy people, can’t be melted with any heat,
The Sun arises without fail and the moon looks pretty and dull.
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