On life and its vagaries


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It’s been a long time since

But something still brings it back

I could still smell the scent of the ploughed dirt

And feel the sticky wet feeling it has

I was sitting in the shade of the only tree in the field

And I was doing nothing

I could still see my father

Fading into the distant hill where we lived

After leaving me there

I disliked being in the field during that time

Agriculture gets my hackles up

Don’t be so uppity my son

Tilling comes before eating

My father says to me in kindness

You have only an education

But be edified, watch the work, smell the soil

Its meditation

But I rebel.

Yet there I was

In the field watching oxen being insulted

The sadists I think

Do they see the weal’s that these mute beings carry?

The oxen snorted when they were

Being taken around the field

There were again few encouraging slaps by their driver

Hey don’t do that I said

They can’t cry

The ox-man laughed

We all get slapped in life sometime

He says, that’s how life works out

Is that so? I ask, I was suddenly angry

I can’t still remember why

May be this strange passivity

Had irked me

I could never believe in something per se

How do you make it out? I shout

He went grey in face and said no more

I sat there wondering

What sense does it make to punish

The mute for no reason

Yeah we have to produce food

And may be, we need to tame animals

But why beat them just like that

Yes, just like that?


Written by Sam

January 19, 2010 at 7:47 pm

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