Bonded Laborers Poem by vasudevan Desikachari

No food, no water and no shelter
In their own state of birth;
Where else will these people go
To eke out a living.
These people of intrinsic God-given strength
To brave all perils and endure
Days of hunger and thirst, at last,
Decide to come out of their land
In search of greener pastures;
But alas, by an irony of fate
Land in a place, hostile and
Of no return and hope;
Where the modern feudal lords
Trap and catch them like
Catching a bunch of rabbits
And contract them to work
As bonded labourers in their
Farms, tea and coffee estates
And in their rock quarries
For no great gains except
Being given meagre food
And a shelter of some sort
And are thus indentured.
And thus acquiesced
Much like the hapless preys
In the clutches of pouncing
hungry bunch of tigers,
That try to wriggle out
But all in vain and end up
Dying in the powerful predator's claws.
Will these innocent people
Ever get freedom at least
To come out of this slavery
Or die miserable deaths
In an unknown land unsung
And with none to shed tears
Leaving their progenies
To suffer the same fate
Or decide to fight some day
Against these heartless feudal lords
or shall we call human predators
like the gladiators of the hoary past
And attain freedom
Freedom to live and work as they like
And enjoy the fruits of dignity of labour
Time alone has the answer.