We hear tragic stories of so many farmers who have given up - the rains have failed them, the crops have failed them, we have failed them...
Is there a difference
between me and a pest?
Not much I say -
I till the ground and sow the seed
All for my family to feed.
The pest swoops down and takes its share
It has its own burden to bear.
Is there a difference
between me and a pest?
Not much I say -
I depend on the rains
to reap a good harvest;
The pest - it depends on me,
and on the toil of my hands.
Is there a difference
between me and a pest?
Ah yes, a small difference I say -
The pest is blissfully unaware
that it is an uninvited guest.
But I, I am painfully aware
that in many eyes,
I am uninvited,
unwelcome,
a nuisance -
I am the true pest.
I can be swatted away
by powerful hands,
or tied to a string
to do another's whims.
No one cares
if the swatting hands
crush me to death.
No one cares
if the string is now
a noose around my neck,
a rope by which I hang,
helpless,
hopeless,
lifeless.
After all, I am the true pest.
Comments (27)
brilliant
beautifully expressed..
True..!
Beautiful and haunting reality so well written
Beautifully written..
the last few lines are really haunting...very well written.
Beautifully written Dinu achacha
so many sad stories - makes me wonder if all this modernisation was worth it..
guru, kya baat hai!
well written..
A lot of the responsibility is ours - we have failed to keep up the dignity of our farmers and their toils..
haunting lines..
well written
You are right - no one cares
Wonderful lines.
Well written..
most of your poems are about love, this is different - I think this is the best
very touching and sad
Beautiful and touching!
They are our lifeline - and yet they have the least value in our society..
Very touching.
I can almost sense and feel the helplessness
Beautifully written.
Beautiful poem!
very tragic wonderfully penned