I clearly remember waiting on a warm September afternoon, staring out of the dust covered railings and all I wanted was to get over with this college documentary and go home. Someone called P Sainath mentioned in my readings from time to time had spent twelve years of his career documenting the farmer’s suicide cases reeling in our country. Once our modest projector was able to display what seemed to be “Nero’s guest “it was followed by a grey haired man, speaking of the Lakme fashion week! Those who listened to him seemed to be intrigued enough to make notes. What followed was something which would change my perspective towards life altogether.

Every day, every evening to be precise we hear a well-spoken man, suited up and blasting our television screens. He asks an over enthusiastic panel what does the nation want? What do we want to hear and what answers do we seek? … now I wonder how much have we tried to listen to those who want to be heard. Sitting in Air conditioned studios and throwing facts we seem to forget the very next minute is easy but what really is hard hitting journalism is ignored.

Since the beginning of 2000’s, India has had 20,000 cases of farmer’s suicide, several women widowed, several children orphaned, several dreams crushed and yet our leadership and administration has failed them. I wouldn’t want to write too much, I would rather leave you with a link below and hope for you to watch, think and contemplate.

मी आगळा एगळा 
माई न्यारीच जिन्दगानी 
माझं मरण भी आहे
खरं अवगनी पाणी

मले हरीक माय कवितेचा
काळ्या जमीनीतला काऊस
त्याच्या मुळील गोडवा
गोड उसाच्या पेराचा

मला मरण आले कुणी
मला दिलियेला देह
टांगता ठेवला
zजसा फुलोर्यातला कान्होला

I am different
My life is different
My death is also
Like an untimely rain

I love green poetry
[I am] Cotton that grows from black soil
With sweet roots
Like a sugarcane stem

When I die
The body given to me
Is left to hang
Like a decoration

– Late Shri Krishna Kalamb Farmer, poet.

The first page of our school books always carried Gandhi’s talisman and now when I think of it, it holds so much truth. It is in fact us, those who have been blessed with far more than what one dreams of who carry the power to strengthen their voices, in every act we should remember the poorest soul.