“I saw a Himalayan woman with glitter in her eyes, catching her breath, when she was traversing through the valley, carrying the fodder on her back,
The shimmering locks framed her face, as she pierced through the tall grass and went away.
Off I went to search for her smile, which was missing from the day she arrived,
So I took a few steps further, and saw her soaking the warmth of the sun,
Ah! she was baring herself to the melancholy of the wind.
The Pine and Deodars had known her struggle,
with pain in her eyes, she admired the terrains,
I didn’t want to break that precious moment between the woman and the mountains,
so I left the place on the spur of the moment.
She was happy or sad it was hard to tell,
but she had mastered the art of breaking,
while staying strong like the mountains.”
This poem is dedicated to all the Pahadi women, residing in the remote hilly areas of India. Who struggle every day to bring food and fodder for their families.
When men move to the cities for livelihood, women single-handedly nurture their kids. And safeguard their tiny nest amidst the verdant hills, which they call their home.
The poem depicts the agony of a Himalayan woman, who from birth to death toil every day to keep her family strong.
While she hustles, there is no one to hold her back whenever she is in distress. But with time, she learns the art of staying strong like the mountains. And not to break or sulk in front of anyone, because she believes she is “Shakti” herself.
Let thy spirit be high in love. Namaste
This post was last modified on May 10, 2020 10:37 pm
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