RICE
-
Tapan Kumar Pradhan (India)
This steamed rice with country ghee you are
spreading now
on my plate, its paddy must have come from the hard
sun
baked soil of Boden, or Komna, from Ramhari’s half
acre
field of hope, in village Manglapur. He’d have
doubly bent
his sunburnt backbone, under a canopy of dry palm
leaves
held at an angle by Saria. She would have carried
to the field
rice pakhal
with a boiled potato, and half an onion crushed
with green chillies. While old mother, frail like a
scarecrow
would have stood guarding the paddy from crows, as
it lay
drying on the cowdung polished ground. Doe eyed
Sukanti
with yellow nimble fingers, would have sifted the
brown husk
from the moon white raw rice, for which I paid
exactly three
ten rupee notes to Lachhu Lal. Bhima Sahu sells at
twenty
Shukru, the agent, won’t pay more than ten to
Ramhari.
Take away the seed, manure, pesticide – and what you
get?
Two rupees for each kilo of moon white rice
squeezed
out of the hard soil. Bholu’s school. Chinnu Lal's
grocery.
Father’s TB medicine. So – no silver bangle this
year also.
Sarian ever reminded – not even once in last twenty
years.
But Ramhari will need reminder? He will get those
bangles
with a thousand rupees from Chinnu, at monthly
interest
of fifty - with Mangla Dei’s blessing, monsoon will
be good.
If it remains good for two years, he will repay the
bangle,
Then take fresh five thousand for Sukanti’s
marriage. End.
*** *** ***
Last year sky was empty, except a single white
feather cloud
which came sailing, then floated away, taking away
the breath
of five farmers in Kishangad, their earthen dreams
dangling
from twisted branches of a tamarind tree. And year
before
country boats plied on teary paddy fields. Nothing
was left
not even oil and salt. What could they offer to
Mangla Dei?
Hope everything is fine in Manglapur. I don’t mind
if Saria
still goes without her silver bangles, but I do
hope old father
is getting his daily medicines, and I hope Sukanti
next year
gets yoked to a young lad from the dark soil, who
will love her
for the sweet scent of summers between her
eyebrows. Or else,
how shall I eat this steaming rice with hot dal, papad,
sabzi
and country ghee, you are serving now on my silver
plate?
****