Help Them Live

The visual you see above is a heart-wrenching reality of the migrant workers of India during this time of the Corona Virus Pandemic. Thousands of people have come out on the roads and are demanding permission to go back to their homelands as they have nothing left to sustain themselves during this time.This poem is the voice of these migrant workers who have an even bigger problem than Corona Virus- starvation.

Help Them Live

A scream came from the right, then a wail from the left,

A sob I could hear from the back, a call of distress from the front.

Then came a scantily dressed, bony man who was for food on a quest,

Predatory noises he would make, like a malnourished lion on a hunt.

I saw him scavenge for food,

Growing restless with every empty bin.

Then suddenly, like of chickens a brood,

Dozens of similarly built people rushed there with their kin.

And the poor man scavenging for a meal,

Ran to find a solitary place to find a thing to eat.

The newcomers followed the same drill-finding something that for food was ideal,

And simultaneously looking for a night’s shelter, maybe a bus stand’s empty seat.

But none got a chance to do either,

For people in khaki came with sticks and speed.

And the crowd ran hither and thither,

Wasting another day without finding anything for their family to feed.

Some managed to escape,

Some others hid in dark and dirty corners.

The remaining were gathered in a circular shape,

And were beaten ruthlessly because they had crossed their homes’ borders.

But when they were left they made a decision,

They would leave for their hometowns to live.

There would be only one mission:

Some food to the body to give.

But there were no buses, trains or taxis to go in,

So they took-off on foot.

Hundreds of kilometres which would burn the skin,

But they fear did not.

They took-off with all belongings they had,

Hoping to have a roof over their head and a full tummy.

But as fate would have it, by a layer of policemen they were clad,

Another beating, another day turned ugly.

But they could not give up,

Starvation would not be the cause of their death.

They sat on protests and refused to get-up,

Said they would fight till their last breath.

A decision to help them live is still pending,

No way are they able to sustain themselves any longer.

The stock of food and necessities the good Samaritans are sending,

Is slowly becoming smaller.

But they will not surrender,

Their weak bodies will not weaken their will.

They will not let themselves the God of Death plunder,

They allow him to do so until.

But time is less,

Requirements are more.

Save them so they don’t go to bed food-less,

And death doesn’t take them away and soar.

Donate, express solidarity and stand with them,

After all we are bound by the brotherhood of the nation.

Stay together like of our land a hem,

Only you can make a difference, so make a wise decision.

*help those in need*

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Published by Lukshita

Using my words to express the feelings of the world...

15 thoughts on “Help Them Live

  1. My dear Lukshita, a literary artist is a chronicler of his or her times. Today your poem has reflected not only your sensitive and compassionate side of personality but also the picture of the other India peeping its ghastly wounds through the hardships of migrant laborers. I pray to God that we as humanity should stand together in these difficult times….

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This poem is a humble tribute to those migrant workers who have been toiling for our daily needs while being away from their families. Let us hope that the measures put in place by Govt would work for their benefit.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The poem Rightly portrays the pain of migrant workers.. good job Lukshita.. I am happy to see that our teens are sensitive about what is happening around them.. Keep writing

    Liked by 2 people

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