Farmers: then, now and in future

Farmers: then, now and in future

 

My father woke so early,

Straightened his hair still curly,

Chewed babul stick in his mouth,

Walked to greet bullocks heading south.

Bathing in water icy and open,

Churning his curd for a humble coupon.

My mother milked two buffalo,

Parents reached the fields before sunrise glow.

Scores of plants fresh in the garden,

Fruits, vegetables, flowers, alfalfa maiden.

They grew what they ate, what they need,

In those days — where was the greed?

Boys and girls leapt from the village,

Played with birds without tillage.

Watering plants with song and chant,

No machines, no scarcity, no rant.

Years rolled on, they grew old,

An uncle came to rule so cold.

Rant replaced by diesel engine,

Cash crops rose, green fields thinning.

From card to cattle the market priced,

Plants uprooted, nature sacrificed.

They came to fields when sun was low,

Bought from markets what they’d once grow.

Brother now upon the throne,

Olden days forever gone.

Bullock and cart sent to museum,

Tractor and tenants filled the podium.

Brother called them on the phone,

Asked for accounts with a horn.

And what of the great grandson’s screen?

Nothing sowing, nothing green.

Cash crops now history in books,

Direct deposits, bitcoin looks.

Each farm and farmer wealthy,

Without cultivation, seemingly healthy.

ATMs in fields to draw what you want,

Groceries online — no need to plant.