12 June, the World Against Child Labour Day was quietly marked amongst the World Cup brouhaha. On this day I saw a young boy sleeping in one of the colourful hammocks that he was selling by the road side, oblivious of the scorching heat...
Boy in the Hammock
In the sweltering heat of June,
As the sun dazzles at high noon,
He sleeps in the hammock of plastic loom
He sells to dispel his life's gloom.
The hot air rises up the asphalt-road,
Threatening to melt n' evaporate the whole world.
The boy has coarse and naked feet,
Curled up on his chest in a bundled heap.
His clothes are encrusted with dried up sweat,
Yellow beads of perspiration rise on his upper lip
Where a down of hair is just beginning to appear.
His hands are folded on his breast,
Which heaves rhythmically as he sleeps.
The heat has probably dulled his senses,
Lulling him to a few moments of oblivion.
He has to sell all the hammocks before sundown,
Which his mother and sisters spin by the night,
Knotting them into colours bright,
In contrast to the colours of his own life-
Dun, gray, ashen, black and blue ...
He has to feed his family today,
And marry-off his many sisters one day...
His father succumbed to diarrhoea and heat,
His mother threatens to follow suit.
He is the sole bread earner today,
His worries gnaw at his soul every day.
But for the moment he slumbers a little,
Forgetting his troubles just for a tittle...
Tomorrow is another day...
Author: Zoya Zaidi
Aligarh (UP), India
Copyright©: Zoya Zaidi
Poetry by Zoya Zaidi
Read 1202 times
Written on 2006-06-17 at 19:56
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