Prahlad
Chendvankar
Patil
When
Patil sent
For me,I went
“sitdown” he said,yet
Ground was wet.
Threw at my head
Torn sacking jute
Still there I stood
Quite mute.
Patil cracked betelnut
Yelled,”why ain’t this runt
Bloody scum dancing on boards
To fill its guts?”
Paunch-cratching,spewed
I went on standing mute
rooted still within my boots.
Wonder now, why did I stand?
Hadn’t eaten no fodder
At his father’s hand.
Translated
by Gauri Deshpande
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