Yes, I’m a racist.
I look at you and see
The percentage of melanin
In your skin
The angle your eyes slant
The colour of the iris
The length of your hair
It’s texture
It’s shape
It’s smell
The way it shines
Or not.
Yes, I’m a casteist.
I look at your surname and your name
Your tilak and your birth fame
The clothes you wear
The accent you talk
The scrawls on your certificate
What’s on your plate
The smells
The shape
Of the food you just ate
Or didn’t.
Yes, I’m tolerant
I tolerate you
Smile at you
Accept you
Hiding disgust
That rises inside.
You’re my responsibility
Part of my culture
My country
My people to empower
And I will
I promise I will
Even though the percentage
And the texture and shape
Remind me of rape.
Is it my fault?
Your hands are so dark
And dirty
They’ve touched the filth
My ancestors did
.
Your birth certificate
It’s barely there
Torn and soiled
Like a drain.
You speak weird
Unpolished and poor
Your dark skin
Reminds me of
Monsters and their kin
Is it my fault?
I’m trying hard
To power you up
To empower you
But the skin
It’s so dark
So dark.
Can I help but judge?
Is it my fault
If your skin is so dull?
Can I help but judge you?