“Teacher! Can I give the bouquet to the Chief Guest?”
“No. You can’t. We have already selected someone else.”
and soon she realized the difference between
her and that ‘someone else’… her tan.

Emptying tears and blood into the gorges of history
It plays chiaroscuro on the path of life…
She wanted to cry hoarse
that soul is superior to the shuck.

With reddened eyes and swollen face
she silently departed
collecting all her prizes.

Ten years later…
nobody understood why
the Chief Guest
after finishing her speech
walked down to a student
with reddened eyes and swollen face
placed the bouquet in her hand
and patted her on shoulder before leaving.

They will never understand for another ten years to come.

(Bolloju Baba – Original in Telugu, translated by Mr. N.S. Murthy)