WATERY GROVES-by Rajababu
Evian comes to life,
The shelves are full of drops,
People queue up, the elitisms aplenty,
Thirst… or fashion.
In the dusty ravines up North,
A woman hurls down a roped bucket,
It hits rock bottom of the parched well;
And pulled back with indifferent effort.
Scavenged, drought-ridden faces,
Stare at the lens eyes’
Pictures to be beamed by Satellite;
The characteristic tut-tuts from middle class homes.
A day’s salary, pass the box,
Cheques sent to NGOs’.
The watery groves of the women folk,
Reveal how much the drought has claimed.