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| ***pic from the net |
Oh, those bright harvest
heaps
weave a magic for everyone,
The yield- bright as the
blazing sun
wafts into the slopes down and
unleashes strange
activities;
The birds spread their wings
joyfully, scatterrrrrr
Stirring ripples across
the brooding summer sky.
The flying squirrels creep out of their caves
launch into the air with
the birds swooping,
plunging over the red-hot chillies….
The composed farmer in crumpled dhoti-kurta
‘chilling’ on the made-in-India truck,
Enjoys the fierce
flame-dance all around him….
He is a gifted Indian!
A farmer who carries his
plough like a crucifix
To fatten the howling mouths in the human
spirit.
How easily those experienced eyes fathom
the moods of sky, season and rivers to cultivate the pearls,
Every year this man travels in a cloud of roasted
chilli peppers,
To sell, and raise money to pay for
the next years’ agronomics.
Twisting and turning and wriggling like a snake,
his cart moves
into slithering lengths;
yet.....his children go hungry.
I falter for a moment,
lick the salt of tears on my lips.
Is this 'the galloping india' we see today?
With booming Sensex, GDP
growth in the comity of nations!
In ten years, they say we're going to be a super power.
But with this menace! ...I recoil from such a vision.
The details are beyond my
perception.
His wheels slow down…it's been a long day,
He longs to go
gentle into his restful night….
For Sumana's Gift.
Such evocative imagery in this poem, Panchali!❤️ I love the "birds swooping,
ReplyDeleteplunging over the red-hot chillies," and am heartbroken at farmer suicides in India.
So sad, that the farmer who works so hard to produce food, cannot feed his children. The fault of corporations, who have made it impossible for ordinary people to live. You have told his story so well, Panchali. Our world is in a mess. Those in poverty feel its injustices greatly.
ReplyDeleteYou make him heroic: " A farmer who carries his plough like a crucifix
ReplyDeleteTo fatten the howling mouths in the human spirit." And the sight of him and all who celebrate the season is a joy in your poem, before we get to the awful truth of starvation and despair. And who could thrive on Chili peppers? The one crop that pays bills vs the many crops that might feed the children and the neighbor's children. Jesus walked among the poor. Politicians and market ratings, in contrast, seem anti-Christ. Your poem took me on quite the journey.
Yeah. We are the lucky few, born here, still have a handful for the mouth. Feeling so heartbroken. The closing lines are such a blow! Love the play of the word 'chillies'.
ReplyDeleteThere is a rich supply of imaging ib your poem. My favourite the look to those red hit chilis
ReplyDeleteMuch🎁love
It is one thing to endure the seasons and the fickle weather quite another o be bullied in to accepting lower and lower prices for growing and harvesting vegetables and other produce and being beaten down in price by greedy merchants that make the real profits. Sadly this occurs in many places in the world and is typical of of the way the world works today. How important it is to keep on shouting out even in poetry of this injustice and greed.
ReplyDeleteHe is the gifted Indian. He puts the food on everyone's table.
ReplyDeleteThe new wealth of India seems to be in the hand of the few. The divide between' the haves 'and' have nots' is a huge chasm. Keep fighting , keep writing for justice.
It is very effective, the way you’ve built up the positive, colourful picture of the ‘bright harvest heaps… bright as the blazing sun’, the scattering birds, the squirrels and red-hot chillies (and the wordplay on chillies/chilling!), the gifted farmer ‘who carries his plough like a crucifix / To fatten the howling mouths in the human spirit’ – and then you shock your readers with the statement ‘his children go hungry’ and we falter too.
ReplyDeleteYou paint a vivid picture of life, and let us see another side of it. So sad.
ReplyDeleteCan you give me the link to your post. Have tried many times..and have failed miserably.
DeleteThe sentence 'A farmer who carries his plough like a crucifix' sums up the grim scenario. You have invested your poem with strong power and disturbing emotions about the farmers' lot.Political parties are aware that lot more needs to be done in different ways to make their lives better.
ReplyDeleteThose in power will never improve the lives of the farmers. Instead they will crucify him.
ReplyDeleteSensex GDP RISING and India a superpower in a decade ..... it a farce if farmers take to the noose. A grim scenario seen.
Your verse flows like the waters of the Ganges.
https://ideasolsi65.blogspot.com/2019/05/barbed-fence.html
Carrying a plow like a crucifix is a stunning image!
ReplyDeleteThanks everyone for your valuable comments...I truly appreciate. :)
ReplyDelete