Mercury goes above fort five degree
and wind blows above forty five speed.
They have to go on feet unto a kilometer
to fetch the water for their daily needs.
Water wells are located far from village
through the hot sand they have to walk.
They have to carry manually on head
or holding in hands, their water filled pots.
The women and girls living rural Rajsthan
spend hours everyday in fetching water.
They deprive themselves of profitable work
and so much of hardships they suffer.
The job becomes more cumbersome
when all of sudden the heat waves rise.
Rising sand grains carried by the wind
makes them blind when pierce in eyes.
Bare trees lack to protect from sudden waves
they have to find their own ways to save.
Rounded in group, to the ground they keep,
their face covered by loose cloths, the braves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem