The footpaths on S N Banerjee and CIT were littered with near-naked rickshawpullers swooned in sweet fatigue after midnight till a few days ago. It's begun to rain now and I wonder where they go...
:( I asked this once of the rickshaw wallahs near my home..they said sometimes if they are lucky they went to the govt shelters if they are open..or else its a night under some shelter ..maybe a tree or a bus stand...or else its a night on the rickshaw...
Most of them are farmers. They are dedicated in earning sweat for their family, they can't go back home. It is the least that matters to them where they survive in the maximum city. But the city to which they give their bones is cold-hearted and merciless.:(
A bundle of contradictions who needs enough sleep and food to keep in the chirpy mood that I usually am in.
Have worked as a stringer, a copywriter and as a content writer in that order since I was in college.
Currently immersed (come up for air occasionally) in the 10-month M.S program at Columbia University, Graduate School of Journalism 2012. Studying on a Fulbright grant.
Look forward to a career in writing, teaching and perhaps, junk jewellery that i make...
11 comments:
:(
I asked this once of the rickshaw wallahs near my home..they said sometimes if they are lucky they went to the govt shelters if they are open..or else its a night under some shelter ..maybe a tree or a bus stand...or else its a night on the rickshaw...
:(
Gauri, in few words you convey a lot.
Gauri - your heart is open to the poor, working people. As long as you care for them, you will keep your kindness. Peace and love, - Joe.
Indyeah, Solilo, Sir
Thanks for your comment. There have been constant problems with my internet connection and i have been unable to respond promptly...
:(
Indyeah, did you live in Kolkata anytime??
This is really short and sweet, and sad thought provoking. The rickshaw pullers, pavement dwellers, beggars.... One feels so bad and so helpless!
mesjay-- helpless is the word.. yes..
So few words...
Most of them are farmers. They are dedicated in earning sweat for their family, they can't go back home. It is the least that matters to them where they survive in the maximum city. But the city to which they give their bones is cold-hearted and merciless.:(
" Where they go ".....
Ages have come and gone
Leaving the oppressed suffer and torn.....
A land digger woman told me once...
We are adict of thirst,heat,cold and grief.
As you all are of comforts, food and home....
Oh lord, please do not have any more mercy on me now.....
-Baba/10-08-2009.
just a few lines
and you touched to the every problem
we are facing
good lines good poem
This reminds me of the question that kept Holden worrying in Catcher in the Rye - where do the ducks go in winter?
Hey, time for another poem :)
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