A Farmer’s Suicide Note.
The cracks in my land widened,
Shrinking my hopes of survival.
The deepening dryness on a daily rate,
Heightened my fears of the future,
As if a knife was piercing through my gullet.
Let down more by debts, than by the monsoon,
Unnerved more by my protectors’ pretences
Than by the door- closing water holders,
How long could my saliva quench my thirst?
When the empty plates mocked at my defeat
To produce and prosper, my culture crumbled.
I mustered strength to silence my breath;
I found the road to the morgue smoother
Than the strenuous pathway to my fallow field.
Not that I failed to cultivate and cull out a life.
But these days killing is easier than tilling.
Those who claimed that I should own my life
Lose their voice to question my right to retrieve
A soul left in the lurch in tomb like caverns,
Crying for help, with SOS mails discarded.
I had to choose between the hailing Hades
And the crippled Cauvery and I made it perfect.
Is not a suicide worthier than
soulless living?
P.Chandrasekaran.
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