POEM
Our land ought to be
in festive mood on this Onam day celebrations.
Instead,
we are in a restive mood.
The sparks of dreams, sorry, our
dreams have died down
since our pockets remain empty
thanks to the callous
indifference
of the powers that be
glued to their chairs
in the air-conditioned cabins.
After slogging it out throughout the day
shedding sweat and tears profusely
our employers throw at us peanuts as our remuneration.
With peanuts in our hands,
if and when we approach the vendors
of grocery and the shops
the owners cock-a-snook at us
leaving us high and dry.
While the haves make it a memorable event
we the have-nots remain restless
with our empty stomachs
on the occasion of our harvest festival……
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