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.