A peasant's woe

That day, I came home unusually late. I opened the door with the two coarse hands of mine. My son rushed out at me the moment the door was opened. He looked at me with those expressive eyes of his as if asking me whether I had kept my word of buying him a new toy. I turned my head side-ways and continued to elude those inquisitive eyes. He appeared dejected and understandably so. He has not had a toy in years. The toy that he has played with all these years now has a deep dent and so do I.

I have failed as a father, as a husband. Those days have now gone. I still remember those days when my father used to take me to his lush fields. I used to watch him toil in harsh sun day-in and day-out. Months of perseverance would then yield fruitful results. The rich harvest of crop would not only suffice our family but would be enough to feed the neighborhood too. Today, I have to struggle for a day’s survival. Those fields that I once owned are now in possession of landlords.

I had no other options left. I had to take these drastic steps to meet the ever increasing demands of the markets. A tiny drop of water emanates from my eyes as I pen down my final lines. I only wish that it was from heavens above. I apologize to my family that I am leaving them alone in this dark hour. But this is the only way out. I cannot face the goons eyeing me everyday; I cannot face my innocent son or my caring wife, I cannot face myself in the mirror.

I moved on finally to the lone Banyan tree standing in midst of barren land. The land which once used to be lush green was now wearing a shade of burn. The tree had stood the test of time by staying strong throughout the seasons. I thought, wasn’t it the same tree whose branches acted as swings when I was a kid? I wondered whether those same branches would be able to bear my weight today! The branches felt warm over my neck as if reassuring me that death will be prompt. I looked heavenwards for the last time. Stars were shining in pitch black sky. Suddenly I heard something snap and the sky was starless.

HOPE THIS SMALL EFFORT HELPS YOU TO UNDERSTAND THE FATE OF MANY OF OUR TRUE ‘ANNADATAS’. SAVE THE FARMER.