
Every year thousands of farmers in India are ending their lives because of high debts and extreme poverty. There were many cases of whole families committing suicide. Widespread industrialisation, lack of help from Government, unexpected natural calamities and the worsening economic conditions have almost made it sure that agriculture is on the way to its graveyard. Hope the Government reinvents its agricultural policy and save the fast diminishing breed of farmers. I dedicate this song to all those men who died on the very land they used to cultivate.

*****The Final Harvest******
Staring at the twisted noose
hanging from the shattered roof
My sturdy hands go numb
Am I doing something dumb?
My first smell was that of the soil
On which I had a life of toil.
My first steps were on this land
which always gave me a helping hand.
The rub of the green used to go my way
everyday was meant to make hay
Songs of harvest were on my lips
Worry was nowhere to be seen a bit.
Then, one fine day, it all dried up
the streams were flowing empty
as was my child's stomach
the crops were waiting death.
the land of green is a thing of past
skyscrapers mock at me from there
Highways zoom over from nowhere
Where should I go, am unaware.
Silently I cry, helplessly I plead
But no one here to pay heed
For they are all gone, my family,
Four lives taken by poverty.
The fertile land which bore me
Now smells of innocent blood.
As the noose tightens around my neck,
I know for sure I was never dumb.
As the world sheds millions of tears over the crashing markets and the falling billionaires, lets all shed a single tear for these unforgotten men who doesn't have the bank balance for the media to go after them. Afterall, without people like them, we can never dream of having a hearty meal.
Check these heart rending images of poverty from another blog action day blog
http://digital-photography-school.com/blog/17-images-of-poverty/
Pic courtesy-topnews.in
your crusader Praveen