By Nitusmita Saikia
Contributing Author for Spark Igniting Minds
“Woman labourer; I AM...!”
Beneath the grave of dust and sweat, unspoken words piled up in the eyes
Landed on lips like droplets of spit,
And there the burden lies, laden with poverty one’s womanhood survives life.
Swallowing the whole day,
Pain vapors the hustle and bustle of pretending smiles,
And it’s nothing but a trifle amidst all dust and sweat,
Concretise my will; tirelessly my hands and head join to win against all odds.
A labourer of duties;
I carry bricks and cement that dripped water,
As if a dried loaf of bread with the last drop of honey in a half broken jar,
Both cause pain;
In my palm & in my child’s eyes,
Shuttered in tears my pounding heart groans and cries ,
As if commuted by giant machines and their monstrous noises,
When loaded all with stones and sand,
Like vermin out of dust arises.
A daily wage earning woman,
In my sweat other’s castles stand,
In my baked cheeks a tinge of rose petals,
Under the pun of building ,
No one see my family’s broken back,
As I fail to build my poverty-stricken life.
About the Author
Nitusmita Saika is by profession an instructor in National Cadet Corps, She writes both in English and Assamese. She has been writing poetry for e-magazines like FM online magazine for couple of years.
Her poems have been published in various anthologies under www.realisticpoetry.com and much more.