Loving Fruit
You think
I am a forbidden fruit, unworthy of your love.
But I never think
You are a forbidden fruit,
Even though India forbids your Nagalim.

For me,
Love is unconditional.

For you,
Love is conditional,
Like that of any Indian.

I stand with the spirit of love.
You stand with the spirit of exclusion.

We are both Christians,
But you are a beautiful, lovable Naga fruit,
While I am forbidden
Because of my Dalit skin.

One Day I Will Come to See You
One day I will come to see you
In Dimapur, where you showed me a minefield of humiliation,
Where you stripped me of my clothes, where you made me kneel down,
Where you left me naked, where you filmed my naked body.

I want to see whether you have changed
Your hatred toward my black Dalit skin,
Or whether you have become even more radicalised in your hatred of my skin.

Whether you hate me or not, I love you.
This is what I used to tell you twenty-four years ago,
And I still stand by it, because it is not merely words to be forgotten,
But a feeling.

You are my breath, even though
You hated me as India breathes hatred toward Nagalim,
As Hindus breathe hatred toward Dalits,
As Muslims and Europeans breathe hatred toward Jews,
As Muslims breathe hatred toward every non-Muslim.

Yet I hate not those who hate me,
Because I strongly believe in the love of Christ.

Brown Soul, Racist Soul
I walked around your
Naga soul without knowing
Your racist soul. 

I searched a white soul
In your brown soul but
I found a brown soul in it.

Pariah Mouth, Pariah Dust
Have you seen me
walking behind you,
touching your foot-dust,
kissing it with my pariah mouth? 

Your foot still knows
my pariah status
in your brown spaces.

Counting Your Footsteps
How many footsteps
did you leave in Pondicherry
before you left for Dimapur? 

Did you ever count them?
I counted your footsteps
I counted them without lunch,
without supper,
full of love,
so I will never forget
your Naga feet.

Erased Shadow
Behind your every step
I walked, but you erased
my shadow, as if it were
untouchable dust.

Million-Dollar Love, Untouchable Heart
Your elites count love
in million dollar mansions;
I count love in soul and heart,
in words and verses. 

Your love for millions
may disappear,
but my heart and soul
will never disappear.

Every Breath is December Fifth
You may celebrate December fifth
once a year,
but I celebrate it
with every breath of my life.

Global DNA, Impure and Inclusive
My forefather, Matthew Malow,
was born with blue eyes, fair hair,
a pure white soul
born in Finland. 

He chose to "civilise" the Third World,
flew to the Indian subcontinent
to teach the word of God,
where he met my beautiful
Madiga foremother. 

He civilised natives
with his word of God. 

We married every caste of India,
we married every race of the world.
Our DNA is global DNA:
it is impure,
it is dirt,
it is inclusive.

Dimapur: A Playfield of Humiliation
I travelled thousands of miles
to knock upon your heart in Dimapur,
but you turned my whole being into a thing
through the violence of your power.

Dimapur, never forget
what you did to my Dalit and Black body.
India, never forget
what it did to my untouchable skin.

I believed your Nagalim
was seeking the annihilation of caste,
without knowing
it still carried the spirit of caste within it.

Once, the author of Annihilation of Caste
endured what Gopal Guru called
the "minefield of humiliation,"
and you repeated it
turning my skin into
the "playfield of humiliation"
he wrote about.

Again, you proved true
what Gopal Guru said:

"Theoretical Brahmins created caste,
empirical non-Brahmins practiced it."

You humiliated my Dalit Black body
in your Dimapur,
standing in solidarity
with mainland Hindus and Muslims
against my skin.

You became part and parcel
of what Gnana Aloysius described
as the "local configuration of powers,"
forces more dangerous
than chemical weapons
in their elimination
of Dalit bodies and skin.

Instead of annihilating caste,
you guarded its purity and pollution
that ancient violence
against my Pariah skin
alongside your closest companions:
Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaishya, Shudra,
Muslim, Buddhist, Sikh, Jain, Parsi, neo-Buddhist.

You proved, in your Dimapur,
what Gopal Guru and Gnana Aloysius warned us about:
caste survives
wherever purity/impurity is allowed to breathe.