An Indian farmer is born, lives & dies in debt.
Luck, if any, in the lottery is his only bet.
Loans, he is given by all & sundry.
Against the land that isn’t wet but dry.
The seeds he gets from his society for free.
Does not get him his required numbers of tree.
The water he gets from the dam is a trickle.
Creates a man who isn’t anything but a fickle.
He studies not, for his family wants him in the farm.
He lives not for himself but to pay off the loan.
He keeps paying only the interest all thru his life.
The principal he never pays despite the dowry from his wife.
At one point in his life, he is unable to pay.
No farmer should come to live such a day.
At the end, with no other way to decide.
He contemplates & zero’s in on suicide.
He toils hard to feed the nation and dies of hunger and debt. its hard truth....more shameful is the truth that we have'nt yet taken a serious steps to solve his problems.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very very well told sir! ...i soo agree with you! ...bcz its the truth in india! @! ! ...eah...truth is always bitter...and sir, you have narrated this poem very well! ! !