Christianised Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Christianised

In south of India
Somewhere called Kerala
They believe in a man
And call him: "St. Thomas."

To them he is a saint
Is great and savour.

Who was he and why so?

People lived in casting
Most involved in farming.

The masters and slaves.

Lower cast was oppressed
Just worked as beast, machine
So that rested master…

Lower cast was banned to
Look in eye or part of
Upper cast, when addressed.

This got to absurdness
When compared the women…

Upper cast was covered
As she wished, up and low
But bare chest were women
Of the cast of farmers
Whose lives was as slaves!

Exposed were their breasts…

Came Thomas with cloth
And of course, the advice:
"Convert to Christians
And cover body parts
Since it is one of musts, "
So, farmers Christianised
In masses and in lines.

This became a point
Positive for Brits.

Such but in other ways
Were many, around there
And Punjab among them.

There, a king of Afghans,
A looter, out of mind,
Kept coming for murder;
Of blood, made rivers.

Connect dots and see what
Helped Brits colonize…

We, who sit far away
And call the other, names
Are, mostly, incorrect…

To become analyst
Cannot be feminist
Nor to be patriarch;
Jut be one, other one
Like the rest, equal.

Keep the eyes, mind, open
To the facts, reactions…

Spring may jump if
Is pressed too hard in.

In jungles and in woods
I walked and spent time.

In times pushed a branch
Out, away from path.

It returned by sudden
Fast and hard, like bullet.

Could or did hit me and
Slap me causing wound.

The same is with genders.

For long time the women
Were ignored and oppressed;
Were, either brainwashed
Or lived in lot of pain…

We, the youths, told elders
Of cities and parents:
"Give them what they deserve
In life, rights and talk, wear…"

Lazy, deaf, their ears,
They delayed and delayed
So, the things have happened.

Women turned words around
To be "Bitch", "Unashamed! "

One leads life after she
Learned about ex-husband
Set in walls cameras
To expose, victimise
The woman as "Nothing"
But body, a body, just body.

When hammer hits point
Of a heated metal on anvil
It takes shape and becomes
New thing; other than origin.

Bitch is a female dog
Not daughter, sister, wife
But rebelled women say:
"Better dog than in mug…"

You, men and the fathers,
You who feel like masters,
Filled with the selfishness
In ears, eyes, brains,
You ignored our pleas,
Were lazy and careless,
Possibly, mental deaf…

Now in, out, everywhere
Of our life and in wild
We observe the flames…

Media, articles
Bear nothing but blames:
"Men are such; Women such! "

Let's sit down for a chat
Be honest in mind, heart,
Straight, equal…

No bitch and no monster!
Let's shake hands, be friends
Let's become good parents,
Let's raise good children,
Let's love and expand it,
Let us turn burning hell
Into lovely Heaven
And become its angels.