Manu’s seeds of poison

I sowed in all good season

But, never thrived on the path of reason.


Naive the minds were

Prepared with the seeds of poison

He made the ground with perfect care

It was a maze, a caste maze, a varna maze

Once in it, it was all haze


At the centre of the maze

He kept his own people with a conniving gaze

Surrounded all around,

Each of the ‘others’ thought they held the ‘upper’ stage


At the centre of this great maze

The Manu’s men already laid the seize

Played the tricks, changed the boundaries

Rewrote the rules of the game


‘Others’ fought for centuries,

Within them, with others

To be that ‘upper’

And they were never so ‘lower’

And the Manu’s men

Enjoyed the game


Minds are no more naive

Hearts are burnt with the truth so grave

The flame is all bright and brave

To burn down the centuries maze

That is standing so naked and alive


Without Wax