Editor’s note: Journalist Nikhila Henry has compiled Rohith Vemula’s Facebook posts in Caste is not a Rumour.

Vemula’s prose is poetic but his poems hold a mirror to his inner self. ‘One Day’ was written after Vemula first got involved in the campus turmoil. Explaining why protest against injustice is core to the self, Vemula wrote of a second coming, a motif which recurs in his writing as he struggled to overcome hurdles posed by criminal cases and university inquiries.

‘Untitled’, written almost a year before that, reiterates his political stand which opposed the Indian Left and Right, naming them two sides of the same coin. His poetry exposes the hypocrisy of all sections from nationalists to communists and secularists, and predicts a day of Dalit–Bahujan rising when the oppressor will be questioned by the oppressed.

In his translation of the Telugu poet Sri Sri’s poem ‘Desha Charitralu’, Vemula’s use of exact words to invoke deep thought is evident. The revolutionary in him, who had painted hostel walls with lines from poems, surfaces in this translation.

September 3, 2015

One Day

One day you will understand why I was aggressive.
On that day, you will understand
why I have not just served social interests.
One day you will get to know why I apologized.
On that day, you will understand
there are traps beyond the fences.
One day you will find me in history.
in the bad light, in the yellow pages.
And you will wish I were wise.
But in the night of that day,
you will remember me, feel me
and you will breathe out a smile.
And on that day, I will resurrect.

September 7, 2014

Untitled

Jo Bhagwan Samja wo pathar nikla…
Jisko Pathar Smajha wo Bhagwan nikla…
(What was called God turned out to be a stone/ What was called stone turned out to be God)
Politics on campus boils down to vote calculations
The Savarnas embraced Vamana
The Nationalists brought the caravan
The ‘Communists’ cleared the way
The Radicals took an untimely nap
The Seculars looked for secluded places
The Intellectuals found all this unnecessary, though in silence
The Dalits were left disjoined in this battle
it was branded their ‘personal’ problem

Our voices may be less in number
Our articulation may be futile
Our opposition might die after a while
under the hefty might of your cultural march
But comrades note
history cannot be erased
Your silence will be remembered
your cynicism will not be forgiven

When you come asking for votes
we will refuse to shake your hands
Your smiles will not be reciprocated
On that day, you will grope around for our support
And we will bypass you
unmoved, untouched by your compassionate words
On that day,
We will play the game of faith & betrayal
Just like you!
Comrades, remember!

August 3, 2013

Translation of ‘Desha Charitralu’
Whichever country’s history you see?
What reason is there to be proud?
Entire history of human race
Is exploitation of others
Entire history of human race
Is an exercise in mutual destruction
Entire history of human race
Is drenched in the blood spilt in wars

Terror as its principal
Ghostly herds as its equivalent
The entire history of human race is
Leeching the penniless

The mighty made slaves
Of the meek race
Murderers became owners of the earth
And climbed to glory in history
A place that is not a battle field
Cannot be found anywhere on earth
Entire past is wet with blood
If not, with tears

Extinguished families
Decimated populations
Cries of the helpless
Are echoing history
Malice, selfishness
Connivance, jealousies and conflicts
Armed with tricks and disguises
Proved the course of the history
Chengiz Kahn, Thamarlane
Nadirshaw, Ghajni, Gori
Sikander—what does it matter who they are?
Each one a grand murderer
Vikings, White Huns
Sithians, Parsis
Pindaris and Thugs built
A bridge of swords to the time

In the dark ages of ignorance
in hunger and passion
guided by unknown and extreme forces
marched people— [thinking]
everything is their own achievement
they are the lords of the earth
built kingdoms
made artificial laws [which]
with the rise of other forces
fell down as houses of cards!
from the forces engaged in mutual battle
rose history

The deception that went on for ever
the heinous crimes of the mighty
the schemes of the rich
even now? can’t be allowed from now on
A social justice based on exploitation of
One person by another person
one race by a different race
even now? can’t go from now on
The rickshaw-wallah in China
the mine worker of Czech
the ship-cleaner of Ireland
All the down-trodden people
Hotentots, Zulus, Negroes
The different races of all continents
Will shout out in one voice
The true nature of the history

Which battle took place why?
Which kingdom lasted how long?
The dates, and the documents
These are not the essence of history,
My friend!
This queen’s love affairs
The expenses of that invasion
Schemes, and accounts
These are not the essence of history,
My friend!
The stories hidden under
The dark corners of the history
Are wanted now!
A truth that won’t hide even when hidden

In the civilisation on the banks of Nile river
What is the lifestyle of a common man?
In the building of Taj Mahal
Who are the labourers who lifted stones?
In the invasion of the dynasty
What are the braveries of common people?
It is not the Palanquin of the king, my friend!
Who are the bearers that carried it?

In Takshasila, Pataliputram
On the shores of Mediterranean Sea
In Harappa, Mohanjadaro
On cro-magnon cave fronts
In the twilights of the history
What was the development of human story?
What country, in what time
Achieved what grand truths?
Which sculpture? what literature?
Which science? what music?
To which rays is this renunciation?
Which dream? What conquest?

Excerpted with permission from Caste Is Not A Rumour, by Rohith Vemula and edited by Nikhila Henry. Available on the Juggernaut app.