Tale Of The Black Pig Poem by anujan raja

THE TALE OF THE BLACK PIG

He was not so in the beginning.
He was white
As white as snow
You may say.
His people?
The poor donkeys
They also were as white
And pure as a daisy
You may say.

But alas! It was only
A speck, coloured
And as small as a mustard seed
A blot on the white coat.
Enough?
Speculations flew about
Hushed talks, whisperings,
Then accusations and incriminations
He is tainted,
He is unclean, they said.

Their voices were hushed-
They were afraid
To raise their voices
For fear of dogs,
Thousands and thousands
Of them, kept ready
To quell the least sign of dissension.
The dogs were cruel, brutish
Utterly slavish
Trained to bark, spit and bite
Pass water at the donkeys.


Some big fat pigs grunted.
Grunting was their job
They knew how to grunt
And grunting they did rather well,
You may say.
Dedicated and devoted they were
The boss is always right, they said.
They grunted louder and louder
Roared like hungry lions,
You may say.




The donkeys suffered
Took all the punishment
Meekly? Silently?
You can't say so.
They brayed keeping their voices low
Nothing else they did
Nothing else they could,
It was a matter of self preservation.


The pigs grunted
The dogs barked
The donkeys brayed
The speck grew into a smear,
A splotch, large, larger
And still larger.
He was black all over
As black as hell,
You may say.
Hell crept into his soul,
He did things no one dared to do.

Now he was unapproachable
No one, none of the grunting
Pigs dared to do so.
He stank like a thousand sewers,
You may say.
And he was black all over.

The donkeys- they were still white
They just couldn't be black
They waited for another festival
They waited for another ruler
Nothing swayed them
Nothing matter'd for them

They liv'd their lives
They only knew how
Nothing else they could do
They were happy,
As happy as happy can be,
You may say.