End of an Illusion

Walking like a Walking Catfish,

I march towards your ivory-coated frills

You use turmeric for skin care

I burn and become pitch-black.

On your doorsteps, someone told me-

You love to ride an Olive Ridley

Like to admire all the travelers with rare skill of crossing the sea

Without fee- certainly hallmark of the genius.

You harbor endless hatred for me

Therefore, brush me aside

You want to delve into life

I am carbon, black and ugly.