By Sabreen Ahmed
The Plough is beaten
They till the barren Earth.
They sow the seeds of green.
They reap the fruit of gold.
Yet all they hold is
a meagre gain—
Undaunted they
move on even if
the plough is beaten or
the soil is smitten
with their blood and sweat.
Others nonchalantly devour
their harvest.
We stand hands tied
with not enough solidarity
with not enough gratitude
with not enough empathy
for the cause they fight
in cold, dust and hunger
with solid acumen of faith
for rightful justice.
Across Bhupen Hazarika Setu at Dhola
The long bridge on
the luminous waters
of the ancient river
erected between
the hills of
heart and home
is the distance of a hidden
thousand leagues both seen
and unseen in the
car’s speedometer
with race, brakes and starts
like the speed of
many marathons across
the lovers heartbeats.
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Sabreen Ahmed has received her PhD from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi in Feb 2013. She writes for various webzines and newspapers and has published an anthology of poems entitled Soliloquies(2016). Currently she teaches in the Dept of English, Nowgong College, Nagaon, Assam as an Assistant Professor.
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