Blog action Day-The Final Harvest

October 15 2008-A momentous day in the history of blogs. Today, thousands of blogs the world over will discuss the same topic-Poverty. Titled 'Blog action day', this is an initiative to 'change the conversation' to shed light on this global problem and arrive at various steps to alleviate poverty. Am posting this song on the big issue of farmer's suicide in India. I started writing this last year and left it after four lines. Yesterday night I completed it.

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

Why is it so

******why is it so**********
Why is it so
that the god hid his oneness
why is it so
that he left the world to fight

The fallen mosque, the broken temple
the looted church and the slain monk.
Lost are the sacred idols of yore,
buried under the communal debris.

The clouded conscience of the spiritual merchant,
selling lessons of religious hatred,
to those learned unwise souls,
Their god is fraud, he preaches.

missing the oneness of it all
training eyes on the dual.
caught napping unknowingly forever
As the ages die and religions rise.

Another song that I wrote last year. Wrote the last 2 stanzas about 3 months after I completed the first two. The image is of the famous Buddha statue at Bamiyan in Afghanistan after its destruction by the Taliban. The symbol of world's most peaceful religion lying in tatters under attack from one of world's worst regimes ever.

Photo courtesy-daylife.com

Wheels Of Fortune

*************Wheels of fortune*********

Its a time of moving away
Of everything which held sway
in my life till yesterday
Is it God who's making me pay?

Been a 60 year old spoilt brat
Flew menacingly around like a bat
Seen quite a lot of spilt blood
And its been a strange rush for my head.

Lives crushed beneath my feet
Many Mothers missed their heartbeat.
Played the devil a million times
My hands trembled, not a single time.

Now, rolling my hands over the wheels
And staring at my lifeless heels
I realize, afterall there's a God
And you'll meet him before the end of the road.


Haven't written a song in a long time. Wrote this after 12 AM yesterday. Still donnow what made me write this. Just had a thought of this man sitting in his wheelchair and repenting the cruel actions that he did, until one day the hands of God ruffled his feathers or rather legs.

your crusader Praveen

The STALKER

First it was orkut. Then it was all the e-mail sites and video sites. Now Blogger is also blocked in my company. But can it stop me from writing and blogging more? Never. So, here I go again, using a proxy site. This is the 1st song I wrote after completing my training and starting work at office. Donnow why, this subject came to my mind all of a sudden. Is it because an idle mind is a devil's workshop?

******STALKER*********
Obsession fuels my ride
On a duel to decide
In me, the devil reside
Its me, always by your side.

I am the thorn in your flesh
U r the smile on my face
U can't see me in the haze
Behind you,here I rush.

chorus:
You call me the stalker in black,
the man without a name
and the man without a face
Yes, am the stalker at your back.


You see a psycho behind you
But I am a macho, out to save you.
Am not the evil lurking in the woods
Am just a dreamer, with a mind full of wounds

chorus:
You call me the stalker in black,
the man without a name
and the man without a face
Yes, am the stalker at your back.



25/02/2008

your crusader Praveen