Poems in Right filled Anger, Of Resistance
 
 On November 16, 2016, the occasion of the KG Kannabiran Memorial Lecture at Madurai, feminist activist Vasanth Kannabiran read our three powerful pieces of writing. Teesta Setalvad, co-editor, Sabrangindia delivered the lecture. We reproduce these powerful poems of Vasanth Kannabiran, a fellow traveler in the democratic rights struggle, with a tribute to her.
  
 I was angry, she told us, when I wrote them. And I am happy to share them with your platform. This is the first
 
 Beef she said
 
 Vasanth Kannabiran
  
 
 Image: Paramjit Singh / Sahmat
  
 Beef she said. I want beef curry ma.
 I am hungry and need the juice from the meat
 to wet  my dried up nerves and wrinkling skin
 My nerves are like dry tendons drained by the lust
 of this mad carnivorous  mob.
 Devouring  human flesh ,
 feasting on youth, old men, women and  babes
 hacking and killing to  cries of mother cow
 holy mother holy cow.
  
 Yes the cow is holy in our myths.
 Gautama circling a birthing cow
 Earned the merit of circling the world
 But what is sacred needs to be consumed in gratitude
  
 The coconuts, goats, chickens we offer to holy
 Mother we treasure and feast on them.
  
 Not let them rot because they are sacred
  No we do not practice ahimsa.
  
 Our creed is himsa
 killing we plunder and pillage and burn
 savagely without respite
 We kill because we thirst for blood.
  
 Let us celebrate our culture of savagery
 Declare with pride and honour that we are vampires
 Declare we kill because we love the smell of blood.
  
 We killed Gandhi, and countless others, no matter.
  
 Let us then eat beef cooking it tenderly with love
 You and I and say that what is sacred is food.
  
 No animal is our mother father or god.
  
 No cow, elephant, monkey or mouse
 There is no God save greed the glorious and great
 Greed for wealth, land, power and pelf
 Greed for blood.
  
 Let us then declare our creed with pride
 and eat, drink and make merry.
  
 Beef will feed more people than a goat
 The milk will not feed ten people.
  
 Blow then the trumpets
 Beat thou the drums,
 Bring out the beef and lay the feast 
 This is ancient Bharat
 the purest land in the world
 let us flaunt our beliefs
 quench our thirst for blood
 what price the approval of the world
 If we can harvest their capital?
  
  [From Country Book Review]
