Labour
A hand pump being grounded
For the first time I see
How is one born a labourer?
Thirsty elites need no hand pump
When they have
Mineral water bottles on their tables
For zoom readings
And in meetings and seminars.
Also water jars being shipped in the marriage
Party palace quenching many thirsty necks.
Who transports these?
A labourer again.
How a labourer digs the earth for clean water
He purifies the muddy water with his every stroke
Of the Hand pump
A labourer has a touch of the earth
He is gifted to draw clean water
From the mother earth
It reminds me of Bob Dylan’s song
Where businessmen drink wine
And ploughmen dig the earth
Do you get the irony?
We are trained to see no irony here.
How bad would the world be without labour
How badly engineered would
Our four-walled houses be
When the ones who touch stones, bricks, cement and sands
Do not leave any traces.
©Sushant Thapa, Biratnagar, Nepal
