An Indian Hamlet

An Indian hamlet of a bunch of houses Without the light, Without the things Essential. The mud-built houses With the roofs of straw, The whole going to sleep So early At night. We the Indians could The rock-built temples, But never could we Houses for us, Just for to house in Gods and goddesses. Under the tree, runs it The primary school, Under the orchard plot, The village boys and girls Going to school Without breakfast. The office-time food And the breakfast Are the things of modernity Otherwise they have been stale food For so long And that too if possible. The villagers, agriculturists, High and low, All poor comparatively, Fatalistic and superstitious, Going by karma-dharma Blindly, not reasonably. Half-fed and half-clothed, They sleeping on the date-leaf mats During the summertime And during the winter On straw beds Or on the rope sling cots. To have a cup of tea not easy Which learnt we from The British, Actually sherbat, Jaggery-mixed water we used to take.