Vishnu Smriti 5.104 and Angiras Samhita 1.39: "If an untouchable caste intentionally touches a non-Dalit, then he or she is to be put to death. The Dvija is purified by consuming cow dung and urine.

O Hindu,

In the agricultural fields,
You are the owners
Of land our ancestors tilled
Without ever seeing a deed.
We bend under the sun;
You rest under the neem tree,
Discuss how to rape our daughters,
Discuss how to dismember our bodies,
Discuss how to maim us,
Discuss how to burn us alive,
Discuss how to eliminate us,
And discuss our laziness.

In the government office,
You are "Sir" and "Madam."
Voices that say,
"We are a meritocracy here."
While your own mediocrity
Sits comfortably in power,
And our brilliance
Waits in the corridor,
With a broom in its hand.

In the great field of Knowledge,
You stand as "Professors"
Not merely by title,
But as seasons of a long, folding mind.

You are Human Rights Professors,
Who never turn Dalit pain into principle,
And never write the grammar of dignity,
On the margins of forgotten Dalit lives.

You are Emeritus Professors,
Whose years do not retire
But ripple quietly through purity corridors,
A slow, full of caste consciousness,
Walking beside the bodies of Dalits.

You are Peace Professors,
Never plant fragile syllables of hope
In soil burned by caste atrocities
Teaching that every tomorrow
Begins with the courage
To erase the Dalit skin.

You are Gandhian Professors,
Spinning violence into a method,
Searching in the small,
The quiet,
The armed caste heart
For a pro-caste revolution
That does not need blood
To change the world but
Annihilation of a Dalit skin.

You are Anti-Caste Professors,
Who never break the architecture of hierarchy,
Who never refuse the ancient Hindu/Islamic scriptures
Of total dehumanisation,
Of humiliation,
And dream that
Long live Caste, Casteism.

You are Ambedkar Center Professors,
Never annihilators of an annihilation of caste,
Lit in a time of darkness,
Never scribes a constitution,
Still never being written
In the lives of those
For whom justice arrives late.

You are Ambedkar University Professors,
Whose classrooms are assemblies of:
Ram, Krishna, Shiva,
Laxmi, Saraswati, Parvathi,
Vinayaka, Saibaba, Linga, OM,
Allah, 786, Burqua,
Whose lectures are a glorification of
Sanatan-Sharia blades,
Where each question
Is upholding a caste and untouchability
Against Dalit lives.

You are Cultural Theorists,
Listening to the open lives of sacred symbols,
To the foundations of violence in sacred stories,
To the whispers inside a nation's,
Favourite songs,
Coding the shape of our caste culture.

You are Cinema Scholars,
Who read the light on a screen
Like their Hindu scripture,
Finding in a single frame
The story of their Hindu life,
Their sacredness, their hegemony,
Their love affairs with power.

You are Subaltern Scholars,
Who never bend low to hear
The voices beneath the official story,
Who never stand at the back of the archive
And say:
"History is finished
Everyone has spoken."

You are Dalit and Minority Professors,
Never stand on the ground,
Once produced them.
Turning Dalits into enslavement,
Slavery into academics
And survival into
An entire school of slavery thought.

You are State and Central Award-Winning Professors,
Medals resting hugely
On shoulders used to carry sacred thread
Heavier than a Nobel prize,
Where caste recognition glitters forever
Upon years of visible work of Dalit elimination.

You are Diaspora Professors, Scholars, Theorists,
Carrying caste and its genocidal persecution in carry-on luggage,
Building universities for Brahmin, Kshatriya, Vaisya, Shudras,
Weaving syllabi from the sacred threads
Of departure and return.

You are Nobel Laureates,
Whose caste names the world remembers,
But whose true monument
Is a single caste student,
Somewhere,
Reading a Manu Dharma Shastra
And discovering
They are no longer afraid to say:
They are pure Nagas,
They are pure Brahmins,
They are pure Kshatriyas,
They are pure Vaishyas,
They are pure Shudras,
They are pure Muslims,
They are pure Hindus,
They are pure Jains,
They are pure Buddhists,
They are pure Sikhs,
They are pure Parsis,
They are pure Tribals,
They are pure Browns,
They are pure wheatish,
They are pure Blacks.

In the knowledge field,
You are all of these,
And more:
A constellation of leisure minds
Refusing to read the
Ambedkar volumes.