Yourself being stricken by poverty though you have worked your way off the charts; not poor by the unnecessary stuff you assimilate rather deprived of the basic amenities you seek out.
Yourself on the threshold of failure, not from your side but the way you are made from the outside world.
You have lost the power of reasoning, not having optimistic attitude you always had, altogether a resonance strike hard at you for all the wrong reasons.
In fact you have given the world your best and your intentions are well deserved and of course you are Noble. For all the unintentional and external reasons, you have been disastrously let down by the rulers and your fellows. Suddenly you are circled out of your group and they don’t recognize you anymore. You are becoming diminished from your sense of pride you always had.
All you hear is that you have lost it. Suddenly you think that it is the end of your line. This is not your decision, for it has been forced upon you. You are great as you don’t know anything other than meeting others need. At last, you have no door to look for, as you finally take your last decision of life; You are no more.
This is the sad state of Indian Farmers that have to be improved on a tremendous scale. Each day in , day out, struggling to meet our needs because they starve even for the basic food security.
My motherland, ever providing India; stood still when the backbone of India crumbled, stood on the face of extinction. But, What are we doing here? There are many NGO trying to protect these ills affecting many. But I ask you! What are you doing? Is that enough?
AN INDIAN farmer who says his home and crops were badly damaged by severe floods this year has received government compensation of just 80 rupees ($1.35), a report said.
Sonba Ganpat Bawne, from the poverty-hit Vidarbha region in the western state of Maharashtra, said he had spent 14,000 rupees ($236) repairing his home after the flooding, according to the NDTV news network.
Last week we celebrated Diwali for various reasons, but how many of us thought of the many souls that are straining for a single meal, not even for them, but to provide their family! Several Widows of the farmers who committed suicide earlier, observed Black Diwali.
On this day as of now, Two more Farmers in AP India committed suicide on their fields; due to intense crop damage by recent floods.
The plight of Gods on the Farm
I grow crops, I sow seeds;
Serve the nation and take out the weeds
Churn out the droppings;
To make way for sapping
This is my liking:
and my way of living
Life on the farm, is all but charm
Life on the field, makes me yield
The day I born, my mum was pleased and
the day I die; my crops will cease
Food I eat, vents out as sweat
My self can rest, until my upbringings are set
Toil under the light, till my reaps are tight
Can’t lose’em sight, owing to my plight
Me; forgets the realm, I see them sights
All I know; is to raise my yields
But now I seek to express my needs
The need to transport and the price of
my soul: are the infamous and trembling gears at stake;
Needless I say, on the corporate thing:
for they seek is gain at the cost of my life;
A way to provide and a way to maintain-
makes me self- out to ponder;
The way to market and the way to inform-
leaves me at the blue sea yonder;
I plead for safety, I plead for time;
A matter of minutes, thence
to make up my mind;
I trust my source, I trust my self
I suffer from many-
the market’s vest and on the off-seasons nest;
Don’t think of me as a madman
nor a methodical goddamn;
My fellows succeed in suicide:
in the fields they reside;
Not for labor nor for savor:
But for trust
but for freedom, but for love
But for life of the crops they
sought and fought;
My self makes us survive-
thru input and intake;
But the larger men takes me down
by their corrupt and by forsake;
Now is the time for paying my due
Says I ought to provide my family of few
Now is the time for standing against,
to stand by my side;
for this term is modified, genetically –
as they say
For now I cannot rest,
As it’s harvest, lest a land of dust
Giving into nature’s trust
By hoping for the best
as the last man-
I sow seeds, I raise crops
I serve the nation and stamp out the weeds
This (Sort of) Poem is dedicated to Indian Farmers who took their lives as a result of various factors that stumbled on their very core of survival.
We shouldn’t tolerate this. It is like mass murdering a race, a race that is so high in pride, yet so humble and generous to everyone.
The latest government figures show 14,000 farmers took their own lives in 2011. You can access the article here.
The needs required for an Indian Farmer is shown above. click on the image to have a look at them in detail.
I humbly ask;
– everyone of you to not just sit there on your comfortable cocoon, rather come out of your shells and start rising a Nation and that start’s with Agriculture.
– Add your thoughts and suggestions on improving their standards, so everyone would do some change on their behalf.
– If you have ideas, regardless of it’s proportion, do share it the comments below.
And I end with this- “Nobody is qualified to become a statesman who is entirely ignorant of the problem of wheat.” – Socrates
Do check out my latest article here
See Everything, Be Nothing