The Farmer

I saw the dream of rural India;
An honest farmer's honest deeds & idea.
Oh! But it's very tough to believe the trust;
The man loved mother-earth & its crust.

I know dreams are product of thinking,
But it was strange as I never such song singing.
Anyway, that darling dream was mind blowing;
The white bearded man was cultivating for seed sowing.

The soil of the field seemed grinned like flour;
The old & lin,white-dhotied farmer looked like weathered flower.
He had used his all pure might & power,
His face looked like a fountain of sweating shower.

The field looked levelled like with butter.
He was prophet,saint or something better.
The two white bullocks too seemed pious;
They looked like the same goddess Parvati's choice.

Was Lord Shiva himself standing in the farm?
Or he was a helping hand against human harm.
The bullocks near farm started grazing green grass;
Heathy wheat seeds were peeping through the glass.

First the farmer offered the seeds to the Almighty;
Then he prayed for the welfare of the selfish society.
Before beginning the germinating seeds' life,
He saw carrying water & food,his simple wife.

A sour & sweet smile swept on his sweating-face,
I think you know the importance of a wife for human-race.
She served the most struggled deserving meal,
They talked the suffering of the world & its heal.

After a reasonable rest he resumed his work,
He removed the pious plough and the very fork.
He & his wife started sowing the wheat seed,
Suddenly they saw a green patch of woolly weed.

The sudden appearance of the weed was uncommon;
Was it heavenly or an ill act of a dreadful demon?
They started uprooting the patch after observing its feature,
To their wonder in its root it had a gold coins full golden pitcher.

With folded hands they looked toward the suspicious sky;
As if they were asking the guilty God, "Oh! Why?"
Ah! Instead becoming happy they looked very sad;
Was it their happy tears or were the just mad?

My mind was just whirling to see them body beating,
The weather turned bad and seemed their death waiting.
Next moment I saw a lady in pious dress near sitting;
O heaven itself has send Bharat Mata for their meeting.

Pious Motherland was wearing tricoloured saree,
She looked so lovely like life bearing beautiful tree.
Sun looked faded & cool like moon & turned white,
Her flowery face was beaming with a pious light.

Their eyes were flooded like brimming river & ocean;
Their pious & pure prayer had shaken the huge heaven.
Mother too looked grieved as the earth had stopped its motion,
The goddess said," Please stop crying, O my daughter & son".

The farmer stood & looked like a three year child;
His wife held his body but still his cry was very wild.
The troubled mother said," Why are you so much grieved? "
The sobbing man said,"A golden pitcher we've received.

The goddess told them that it was a reward.
He said,"Oh mother! Thy punishment is very hard".
The mother said,"My son you've become very old,
" That's why I have offered you the golden pitcher & the gold".

The peasant said," I'd offered my only son;
The soldier was killed by the traitor's gun,
Now I've nothing to sacrifice so I cultivate,
I feed pure grains to Indian army & mate."

The lady farmer recalls her loyal son love-bound,
She became fainted & fell down on the ground.
Her pained heavy heart uttered ultrasonic sound,
Oh!Her love can't be sold or bought in pound.

I could see the farmer requesting & returning the pitcher;
The Motherland was preaching them patiently like a teacher.
"Sell the gold coins & enjoy your life".
"O Mother,don't kill us; our life is strife."

The plants,birds,animals all were crying,
The Mother could see their love's trying.
"O Mother, don't mix money in my mind,
If I'll stop working coins as meal 'llbe find".

"Children are already cultivating animated field,
Schools are rewarding them with silver shield,
Animated birds are singing animated song,
Leaders are proceeding towards general wrong."

"O Bharat Mata! Please don't make me a rich robot,
Bless me to love you and pure peace promote,
Let me & wife die in this natural setting,
We've birds,animals & lovely is meeting."

"O mother, let me feed India & pay the tax,
I don't wanna cut humanity by golden axe,
Don't stop farmers from working in fields hard,
Scientists are growing chemical grains in lab & yard."

" We farmers deserve but only exploitation;
It keeps us burning our working engine with motion,
O Mother, let me preserve the nation by feeding brave son,
Give us power to protect our dying culture & tradition."

Ah!The Motherland wiped her regretful tear.
She embraced the both and looked very dear.
She took the reward: the golden gushed  pitcher,
The man & his wife filled their eyes with pious picture.

I heard my wife saying," When will you go to school?"
I got up fast from sleeping as I knew their rule.
When I reached to that powerful private school;
The Principal was very hot & I remained cool.

by Rajneesh Kumar Mishra