Tuesday, 3 November 2015

Guest post: Diwali Crackers

The following poem is by Ragini Zutshi Anand, who blogs at Igloo on the Beach.
Go check out her blog for more of her works.


He sat there looking at his hands,
Blistered, burnt - covered with bands.
Bands of cloth, dipped in antiseptic,
Dirty and unchanged.

She sat next to him,
In the same way.
Tears rolled down her cheeks,
Onto skin that was cut away.

They were 10 and 8
Respectively.
They had their lives ahead of them,
Were supposed to be joyful and lively.

But they were stuck there,
Stuck in a stupid old factory.
A stupid old factory making stupid crackers.
But were they really living?

Promised an income,
They were snuck into towns.
Uprooted from their cosy homes,
Underground.

Did they see the money that was promised?
Did they see their parents?

All they saw were their damaged hands,
And a bunch of greedy children every day.
Those spoilt greedy children were blown away,
Blown away by what they made.

Used to tug at their parents clothes,
Begging them to buy.
Spent a bomb, these families did,
To see their kids jump with joy.

But were they given that opportunity?
Were they ever given that luxury?

These kids need to be educated,
Not stuck in these four metal walls.
These walls of terror,
These walls of pain.

Stop child labour,
See the country grow.

Burning flames
(Picture credits- Ragini Zutshi Anand)