In the Spring when the weather warms
Kamela is wandering naked again
Amongst the tea plants
Grown on steep slopes
Under the shadow of Kanchenjuenga.
The sisters surround her
With bright red shawls
And together they inch down
The steep muddy goat trail
Past the broom reeds and cardamom shoots
Onto a small terrace
Where the rain collects
And a tethered goat
Stands guard on a rock
Bleating its hungered cry.
Kamela and the sisters
Enter a ramshackle hut
With no windows or doors
And three coughing babies
Tended by the oldest boy
Who will leave school at 10
If she can find him a job.
They look to see if Kamela
Brought a package of biscuits
To satiate the gnawing empty pit
“Not now my babies, maybe tomorrow.”
Her heart is filled with shame.
The sisters know they will be punished
And lose their daily wage
For half empty baskets
They must get back to the plants.
Quickly they help slip on
Kamela’s flower print skirt
Her apron
Her bright red sweater
They wrap the scarf around her head
Help her pull on rubber boots
Attach her basket to her back,
And together ascend the steep trail
Returning to the fields
To pick the first Darjeeling flush,
The finest cup in the world.
__
Plants groomed to perfect round,
Buds picked by crafty fingers
Thrown deftly over the shoulder
Into braided reed baskets
The throngs of giggling women
Pose in smiles for passing tourists
In Maruti vans. The smiles turn to curses
As the drive by shootings
Take the souls of the women
Leaving nothing to offer
To drip into empty coffers.
Kamela coughs and spits up blood
The fever is high today
But there will be no pay
If she goes home to rest.
Kamela is Brahmin, highest caste
Early the next morning,
She asks at the temple
What karma this?
As she takes the blessing,
At least I am not Adivasi, she thinks
Not dark skinned, like the sisters.
She smears red powder on her hair part
The sign of marriage,
Of a husband, yes, who can’t find work
He takes her meager wage
And drinks it away
Leaving bruises on her
Fair Brahmin skin
Now dark and leathered
From years in the sun.
She returns to the garden
To pick the first flush of Spring
One pound of which will bring from
Fortnum and Mason in Piccadilly
Enough to pay Kamela
For the rest of her life.
40 comments:
Cat, like your other post, "Not a Bar Girl Anymore" this one pirates the breath and shakes the complacent soul: See us, your women insist. And through your words, we do.
What we do after that is up to each of us.
Hi Jennifer. I have so many stories, they just have needed a form. I think perhaps I may have found it with this kind of poetry. I thank you for feeling it. The women I met really touched me, I just want to show the world that they are there.
Oh God, Cat. This is so poignant. The world needs to hear these stories every day. My INFJ sensibilities are on fire-- why does such inequality exist in the world? Why do humans treat each other as less than themselves? The "way" seems so clear in my visions... how people "should" relate to each other, and how humanity "should" work together as caretakers of our planet and each other.
Okay-- you got my blood pumping this morning! Now I'm off to make popcorn for the kids at school. And I'll be counting my blessings all day. For, as Oprah has said for years, women born in America are the luckiest humans on the planet...
PS-- You should write a collection of these women's voices poems! Perhaps make a documentary using them?... Oh, the possibilities!...
;)
This is absolutely heart-wrenching, Cat. You show us a world we do not see, here in our security.
I saw Slumdog Millionaire just this week, and I was sickened by the images of poverty. My son-in-law is in the Phillipines right now on business, and he has sent pictures of the area outside his workplace that look similar. We have NO idea how blessed we are in our safe little worlds. Someone kick me the next time I whine about anything at all.
Oh Aine, I know. It is so easy to forget when we do not hear the stories. I love your idea, and I think that is exactly what will happen. Thank you so much.
Karen- Even after having traveled and met these women it is easy to forget and wash the truth from our minds. We are SOOOO lucky in the west. And we put on our blinders and go about our day as if none of that is happening. And yet it is. Thank you my friend.
I love this. The story is so important, and you tell it so well. You are appealing to my sense of social justice, as well as my appreciation for your verse.
Rachel -After having just read your poem, I think we do connect deeply on issues of social and environmental justice. And animals too. :-) Thanks.
Cat, you have really defined yourself with this. It's as if you have stripped away the layers of Kamela's existence, to let us see the sad marrow.
You present this with an air of reckless truth telling, that is indicative of someone who has finally come to terms with sorrowful reality. You must have been "living" with this for a while.
"First Flush of Spring" sparkles darkly with wisdom and insight beyond the surface. I can't think of any other poem that has so impressed me. I salute you.
Just came back for a re-read, and I want to say how striking this is. That's why I came back, and why I admire your work so much.
K., Thank you so much. I actually went back to India and filmed 20 hours of video footage because of Kamela who came and ran to catch up with me as I was walking around the lake near her village. She didn't speak English, but she communicated very clearly. I took her picture (and paid her for it) and then decided to do documentary work on the tea workers. I came back 6 months later and found her again and with a translator present, she told me her story. I've been sitting with this for a year. I did write about it on my blog a year ago, here's the link:
http://catvibe.blogspot.com/2007/11/whats-in-your-cup.html
Karen- :-) Thanks so much, you are a wonderful blogging friend.
Catherine, I know how you must have felt having experienced this first hand. Somehow, I was not surprised at all, because I see these people and interact with them on a daily basis.
You can see child laborers every ten feet out here. And no one seems to care. The better fortunate of us out here, just donate some money in charity and think our bid to the society is done. But the money also disappears in the corrupt chain of government.
The government is too busy filling their pockets and the media too busy writing stories on film stars.
With about 30 percent of the population below poverty line, its too hard to find a solution, but at least the government should take an effort.
You've been to Rajasthan girls are still getting married there at an age of 5 yrs! Everyone knows, nobody cares...
And that's why 'Slumdog Millionare' is being criticized in India. look at the poverty shown there, multiply it by a 100 times and you are still no where close to the real situation here.
The country is developing nicely I agree, its not all snake charming and poverty. It a lot to offer to the world. But a section exists, fighting for survival, which everyone tends to ignore.
If you would have been here that time of the year you would have known about 'diwali' the festival of lights, out here. Each year hundreds of children get chronic diseases due to excess inhaling of gun powder in industries manufacturing firecrackers for the festival. The sight of these factories is unbearable to watch.
I guess, I should stop writing now. Too much is bottled up inside.
You've written some powerful poetry here. The indepth details and story are heartwrenching. Very very captivating.
Aniket, this is some of your loveliest writing and I can feel how it just flowed out of you.
I'm glad you shared.
(You know, from one ranter to another. ;) )
Aniket, I am so glad you gave this comment, and it means a lot to me that you came here to read this. I was there during Diwali, and I am very sorry to hear about the children laborers, although again, I am not surprised. What I am surprised at is your statement that it is only 30% of the population that is living in such poverty. I would have guessed much much higher. Aside from the poverty, what I learned by talking and interviewing so many people in India was the sense of hopelessness and despair both from those who are directly experiencing the poverty, as well as those in higher classes who just feel that the corruption is so impossible to surmount that there is just nothing that really can be done. That was the hardest thing to bear. My personality type just wants to fix injustices, and these are problems that are not going to be solved by India alone I feel. And yet often I feel that it is so difficult, that turning a blind eye to it is the only way most people can live with the pain. I felt that deeply when I was there, and it has left an indelible print on my soul. Aniket, you are a very special soul, I am so honored to have you here and to be able to be communicating with you.
JR- :-) Thank you, I'm glad it touched you.
Jennifer: I have a feeling Aniket has a LOT more to say on the subject of India.
And Aniket: I hope you will share more of what is bottled up. We DO want to hear the stories that only YOU can tell.
@ Jennifer: I know realize I did ranter quite a bit.
@ Catherine: I used to write on daily life and about the general happening at first. But it all seemed senseless after the 26/11 mumbai attacks. As all those who read my blog were already learned and aware of surroundings. And I couldn't reach out to those who needed to listen.
And people actually try to make this country better but they are just overwhelmed by anti social elements.
There is one politician who had thousands of muslims massacred, and he still runs for election the whole country knows that but does nothing.
Another one started of 3 riots based on caste, and had hundreds of people killed. He still is in power.
Then there is Jessica Lal, a model murdered at a bar in front of 300 people by a politicians son. The whole country knows he killed her, and he still roams free.
A doctor killed 47 children for their kidney's and burried them in his backyard. The case is still ongoing for the past 3 yrs and he roams free on bail.
A group of IITians (the best grad school in India) contested in elections trying to make this country better. The rival party gave the farmers Rs 100 per vote and won by a landslide. They were given life threats if they ever contested again.
I believe only media has the power to bring this out and create a public outrage, but they are too busy concentrating on the waist lines of actresses or cricketing giants.
And its not me, any person out here can share a million stories. But unless the media brings a revolution not much is going to happen. There are people who do their bit (like I joined the teach India initiative to teach rural kids for free). But its only one drop in the ocean. Even if people are willing to teach for free, kids say they need to work to feed themselves.
And that's why the world has so many immigrant Indians. we don't hate our country... but everyone wants to give their children a better and secured future, where they can speak their minds.
The constitution gives the freedom of speech, but the medium is missing. And those who try to speak get a bullet in the head.
So there.. (more ranting :))
I must stop now... this isn't like me you know! :-D
Aniket-I also just finished reading Aravind Adiga's The White Tiger, have you read it yet? It is a must read for anyone who happens to have their eyes passing by this conversation READ IT people!
What you have said mirrors his sentiments about politicians, but the voice that it is told in is so incredibly compelling. If nothing else it should be read as an education on how to tell a story brilliantly from a very unlikely voice.
But what you have brought up mirrors my concern about media, and why I think documentarians and media from outside of India need to come in in full force to reveal the truth. You are right, the media in India is a morass focusing attention on all the wrong things. And anyone who thinks Bollywood is India in any way at all, think again.
Please Aniket, this IS a part of you, and you are always welcome to rant over here. Just to be in the space of feeling all of that and seeing it on a daily basis, living in it, knowing those who are affected directly, and being affected makes all of this directly a big part of who you are. A great big cybersqueeze to you my dear Aniket. You are a gem among gems.
great post, cat... and keep up the superb work :)
A touching post and thanks for bringing that issue Cat. It was a good choice to post it as a narrative poem.
Aniket already made excellent and valid points. I won't elaborate more.
I can imagine that all this could happen especially in a country the size of India. I know stories similar to what he said in my native country.
What so many of us can just imagine, you have seen and felt. And this poem proves it. Thank you for sharing your vision with us, Cat. I can "see" this poem as effortlessly in my head as watching a documentary. But the language makes it more powerful to me.
What karma this? She takes the blessings and the beatings. Because the human condition is too steeply sloped and imbalanced for one person to overthrow.
Your poems shine a little more light onto Kamela and that hut. Keep telling their stories, Cat...
(I loved the comment section for this one, too)
Laughingwolf - Thank you. :-)
Khaled-As I said to Aniket, I can't speak for the world, but I know that I dearly want to hear the stories of your native country. These are stories that deserve to be heard. I thank you my dear friend.
Sarah- Thank you Sarah, your words mean a lot to me. I often think people just don't have the time or the energy for stories such as these, and yet they are the truth and the stories are about people upon whose backs the luxuries of our world is served. Painful but true realities. I hope in our lifetime we might see lasting and hopeful changes in regards to those things...
Sarah-grammatical correction, luxuries of our world 'are' served. I knew that. :-)
This is another powerful poem that speaks loudly of the plight of these beautiful women. It's obvious you love them, and I think that makes it even deeper. It really shows in all of the wonderful details. I love:
"The sisters surround her
With bright red shawls
And together they inch down
The steep muddy goat trail
Past the broom reeds and cardamom shoots
Onto a small terrace
Where the rain collects..."
I just had to go back and re-read, and I want to list the entire poem as my favorite part! Awesome work!
Another of the endless tragic stories of this world - one that you've told so well, Cat, that it breaks my heart...
Julie-In truth I have to thank you for the inspiration I have found in YOUR work to find the voice for poems such as this one and the Bar Girl poem. You truly are a master at this kind of docupoetry, and your prowess is something I aspire to. I thank you so much for your words and your visit. :-)
Vesper- Thank you Vesper. The stories are hard to see and hear, but they are the truth of things, a truth which I hope will see change in our lifetime.
Thank you for this visit to a world I've never experienced. I like having these deeper insights.
Yes thank you for telling that story. I was ready to read a poem of flowers blooming around Asheville. You took me around the world and introduced me poverty that I have heard of but you made it so much more personal.It was so sad and you told with just the right words I shall never drink tea and not think where did these leafs come from.
A great picture to go with the poem too, The kids eyes say so much!
Thanks also to Aniket rant on! The conditions you speak of I would not know about if it where not for writers like you and Cat
Jason-Thanks for reading, I'm glad it opened a little window for you to see...
Mechy- I am truly honored by your words, it really means a lot to me that you will think of Kamela and her friends when you drink tea. I think it is so easy to ignore the fact that slavery still exists, it just wears a different face, and yet almost everything we import contains that little contingency. We need to honor the people on whose backs we live our very fortunate lives. To do that, we need to stop ignoring their stories. I really thank you for listening to Kamela, AND Aniket, and for how they touched you, I am grateful.
You are embarassing me now catherine... :) :) :)
Aniket- That is good! You know, blushing is good for the skin. :-)
This is incredible, intense and meaningful. Your words matter Cat.
Please stop by Psyche Connections and pick up a much deserved award I would love to give to you.
Linda
Beautiful. Sad. Beautiful.
That is an amazing poem....
Dear cat, your words took my breath away… there is just so much that we choose not to see…
this was my first visit to your blog and I totally loved it. You write beautifully. I hope to keep coming back for more
Linda-I'm really glad you read this poem, and I thank you for your sisterly love. I am honored by your award, thank you my friend.
Writer, Thanks for coming by, not all my poems are this sad, thank goodness. Please come again...
Cherie-Thanks Butterfly, I will be back by your blog again soon. I have a big catching up spree to do...
Little Girl Lost-Thanks for your visit, and I hope you will be back. Many treats in store soon!
I will be visiting all your blogs again soon. See all that Spring has to offer on the blogs!
I'm back. Painting, travel writing. Haiku. Looking good while reclining. In blue. Is there nothing you can't do?
Writer on Board, thanks and welcome back! I was just over at your place and looking forward to reading more thoroughly. There is nothing I can't do, I am superwoman. (Not :-) That blue shirt I'm wearing has a butterfly on it, like a butterfly, I like to jump from flower to flower and try to learn their essences. Sometimes I get good at things, and just as often I make terrible messes, but one thing I can say quite honestly is that I have no idea whatsoever what boredom is.
I like it.
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