The Englishman, to sustain his policy of divide and rule,

looked upon the ancient occupational communities of Hindu society

and branded them all with a single word—caste.

Then, through the machinery of power,

he slowly infused the deadly venom of caste hatred

into the arteries and veins of Indian civilization.

Those who arrived to plunder India

understood a cruel truth:

that humanity could be ruled only when reduced to herds.

Exploiting economic and intellectual disparities,

they fractured the people of this sacred land,

converting faiths, dividing communities,

and confining men and women

within countless fenced enclosures of identity.

Without even knowing the language of a people,

through malice born of distorted intellect,

they mistranslated, misinterpreted, and misrepresented

the literature of a particular community.

For more than a century,

they nurtured hatred,

ravaged livelihoods,

coveted the women of those families,

erased homes and identities,

and even took lives.

Yet, to this day,

such deeds continue to be justified

through the shifting arguments of language,

time, geography, and politics.

Any writing that seeks to justify

the destruction of a community's women

through the cruel weapon called love—

a destruction that engulfs not only the woman

but her family, livelihood, and cherished faith—

can scarcely ascend

to the heights of world literature.

Though warnings be issued without end,

though threats emerge openly and in secret,

though mockers proclaim,

"Arangan shall never come near you,"

this humble writer shall continue his task.

For there are those who declare

that the forefathers of a certain people

alone were responsible for social inequalities;

those who burden descendants

with inherited guilt,

forcing them to shrink beneath the weight

of imagined ancestral sins;

those who pour hatred upon the present generation,

deny their rightful place in life,

destroy their homes,

ridicule their cultural treasures,

and scheme to render them

political orphans in their own land.

Against such deceit,

this pen shall remain unsheathed,

casting light where shadows gather.

Unable to bear the unanimous appreciation

received by this humble author's tribute

upon the passing of Bharathiraja,

some jealous voices have resorted to threats.

Arangan shall not forgive such envy.

May the readers across the world,

in their generosity,

forgive those small-minded souls.

"When you behold one who commits injustice,

fear not, dear child.

Confront him, trample falsehood beneath your feet.

Spit defiance into the face of oppression."

—thus sang our grandfather-poet, Bharathi.

With reverence and regards,

Yours affectionately,

Ragavapriyan Thejeswi