Facial contradiction

(i)

I,

A faceless person,

Who hid my body

Somewhere in the depth

Of this big city,

I am the undisclosed offspring

Of an unknown weak woman,

Who came to this big city

Once upon a time

At some cross roads of history

From a poverty-stricken village

Of Bihar or Orissa,

She had crushed her bones,

Shrunken her skin,

Became herself a worm

And slowly perished

While labouring for palaces

I don’t know her

Nobody knows her

Because, like thousands,

She also had no face

She had pushed her life

With her body only

Yes, body had a value

In any street

Where face had no value

Due to this,

There is no meaning

In searching a face for me

That is why

I don’t have a name

So, you can call me

Any name, as you wish

Thief, robber, killer, scoundrel,

Anything

Because,

I don’t have a face of my own

Whenever chances came up

I pasted on my face

The undisclosed faces

Of the politician here,

Of the social reformist

Or of any VIP

My most important peculiarity is

That I am not written anywhere

My name cannot be found

In the birth and death register

In the local authority

Because, nobody knows

Where I was born,

When I was born

And to whom I was born

My name cannot be found

In the marriage register too

Because, I don’t need a marriage

To fulfil my sexual urge

Even the police clerk

Writes nothing about me

As he doesn’t know

Who are my parents,

As I have no permanent house,

Or a permanent name

I can speak anything to anybody

Call any names

I can beat anybody

I can kill anybody

Nobody will ask me anything

I can use the road as a toilet

Nobody will protest against it

I can scream loudly in the day time

Nobody will say anything

I don’t have anything of my own

So what?

But, I have the freedom to do anything

I am beyond the time and ages

I am behind the curtain of all images

That is why, I don’t need any protection

Because of all these,

Nothing will happen even if I die

Because,

I was not written anywhere.

(ii)

I,

A person,

Who lives in the biggest

And highest echelons

Of this big city

I get five-digit salary

I move only in cars

I am an executive

With an identity card

Hanging from my neck

When I come back from work

Thinking of the world’s issues

So seriously, heating my brain

I have the comfort of air-conditioning

Clubs, discussions, parties and get-togethers

Are my inevitable routines

I have to keep a lot of manners

And take care of many social values

Hence, I have a lot of facilities

My parents gave me education

In posh English-medium schools

Mother tongue is a shame for me

I, who have all the comforts in life,

Had a revelation one day

Since that day

This thought started haunting me

Though I have everything

I don’t have anything

When I screamed loudly for two days

My freedom took me to hospital

When I used the road for toilet

They chained me

Because,

Everything about me

Was written

Up-to-date.

By Ismail Meladi