I am not a South Asian

I won’t be a victim of their myopic definition

Not a subject of their divided and ruled abstraction

Don’t dare call me a lovechild of illegal immigration

Will never give in to their verdicts for societal seclusion

Don’t just divide this world up into several borderlines

And compel me to produce a passport to prove my alliance

I don’t hold torches or flags; I wont fight with no “enemy” beings

And I ain’t no reserved pig, won’t dance to their muddy signs

They’ve been asking long for me to sign the checkbox of my ethnicity

African-American, Asian-American, Latin-American and any other entity

The terms that they block us by, and those divisions subject to atrophy

They devise multiculturalism and play favorites, so we fight for each legacy

The whites of the World are surely united for their common histories

It’s the people of color who are grouped differently by some taxonomies

I wonder why there are no enlisted Europeans-American categories

Even as the Native Indians are made to suffer from some identity crisis

The Third world and our diasporic folks in First World have some in common

We have always fought the rulers bravely, to repel the ghastly intrusions

We’re the strongest force to reckon with, as the victims of oppressions

Divide us, calm us, comedy us, and we are soon our own frustrations

I know they secretly love to call us Niggers, call us Zappies, call us Chinkies

But they wont call me Asian yet, for where will go the yellow lot Chinese?

Now they call me South Asian and I wonder what need is for that tease

But of course we are items stratified on their flawed geographical drawings

They can call me at will, a different race and a different ethnicity

But can hardly ever separate me from my shared similar history

With the peoples who suffered being part of one same colony

Ruled and ravaged as uncivilized colored, yet laundered as valued money

Spanish, French, Dutch, Germans, English and the Americans

Their ruling elites believing in imperialistic expansions

To sustain the rule, have broken people into rival sections

And now preachers of the G-7 and the self-proclaimed well-wishers

Nay, peoples of the world reject the rules of the ruling classes

No more nationalistic agendas, no racial superiority clashes

Won’t take that bullet from them anymore, nor shall we shoot their gun

Working peoples of the world this time, will fight for their own revolution

- Saswat Pattanayak, Peoples' Poet