In utter dysenteric squalor
His life emerged and engaged,
Poorly nourished breasts gave little succor
His scraps came from the infectious floor
No dinner table but a flourish of hands
Drawing rice from the pot
Mixed with the detritus of life
That floated by on that Rajasthani day
They shared three rooms
Four generations and their cattle, of equal stature
Piously claiming their space in quiet order
Seasonal sun drove away the remnants of the monsoon disorder
As rancid, excreta-infected mud gave way
To putrid, dust embedded stone
Dwellings merged seamlessly with the voluminous waste
That was home to the lesser swine and untouchables
But the landscape was a scene of laughter and play and learning
No matter the squalor, the smiles pervaded all
The school books proudly raised themselves above the dirt
And no doctors were needed to soothe tainted throats
No shouts, no screams from the shoeless infants
As they effortlessly crossed the burning rocky street
No plaintiff cries
And never a tear to be seen
Their long since departed and distant cousins
Had been born to expatriated forebears
Now ensconced for a few generations in a brave new world
Thoroughly entrenched in the opposite diameter
Where natural immunity is redundant through lack of work
Endlessly supported by needled vaccines,
No dysentery, malaria, cholera or the poxes
Just fatness and arrogance fed by parental pride
Life misses nothing, no chances are lost
Hardware and software surround them with sounds
Learning a given, though not by the book
Rather by screens where truth and fantasy co-exist
They should be the content ones, possessive of everything
But petulance displaces laughter when instance is not there
Teeth are bared in anger not smiles
Tears and tantrums pervade all
Who are the fortunate
Whose integrated contentment is the best
Do we have to make progress
At the expense of humility?
Rajasthan, India, December 2004
