Friday, 21 April 2017

Snehal Busa's Poetry of Protest


She is Snehal Busa became part of protest that her dad waged in the form of 100 days hunger strike against education department of Goa. She along with her sister and mother were bared bare heat of sun to make their point on injustice she and her family suffered. She as latched inside the washroom and then made to eat her food near the toilet with foul smell everywhere few years ago in Talegao school. Her protest against headmistress went in vain and after sharing with parents she found stream of support. 

While press and public is well aware of her support to her dad's hunger strike outside education department what is not known are her poetic instincts. Here we share three of her fascinating poems here. 'Daddy' is poem she writes to her own dad Balkrishna Busa who carried on 100 days hunger strike, fitting salutation. 

'Ghost' is poem that reflects reactions to her natural black complexion from fellow students in school. Its also sharp critic of racists bias in our minds. Fantastic combat. 

"Being touch" is a poem among other things expresses abandonment by friends in the path of struggle she is walking. All three are fabulous poems. Goa can be proud for having such a Poet amidst us though a growing child still.

Poems are fit to go into school syllabus. On our part we make them public with gratitude Snehal Busa, her mother Geeta Busa and father Balkrishna Busa.

DADDY 
Terrific, dad's don't grow on trees 
Shopping shows don't carry them 
Nor come to you by mail or any kind of sale 
They don't fall from sky 
you can't pull them from magic hats 
no matter how much you try 
In fact, you could look high and low 
And search the whole world through 
But you'd never find another dad 
Who's half as great as you . 



GHOST
Once I saw a Ghost,
I felt he will turn me into a toast,
He had red eyes
He will eat me if I tell lies
I saw it and screamed
I woke up and found,
it was just a dream. 


BEING TOUCH
What a bad luck
I heard them calling me a duck!
My friends didn't support,
Felt like appealing in Principal's Court,
To make me happy, they fell pleading on the floor,
But I got angry and closed the door.

No comments:

Post a Comment