Poem by Bipin Gohel

I , the man being erased 

I am the man half erased by the duster of Manu

I rewrite the erased man.

On the walls of time

Faintly painted

Since thousand of years on its lines

Acid duster is always active

With the nail, it is being erased from roots.

The so-called white color

Harasses since centuries.

I try to make the line clear, visible…

A desert blows.

Universal oppression.

He is being scratched out like a live skin

From word

          from dream

                   from fragrance

                         From breath.

I struggle to raise head which is bent low.

In the thicket of sharp thorns

Somewhere in the depth

A bud forms,

I pluck it with scratched, bleeding hand.

I rewrite the man, who is being erased.