Santhal Village (Haibun poem)

Bright red mud road snaked

between tall green Sal forests

ended in village

Eyes took in the scene before spread . Walked to a spot where found, women threshing wheat on stone floor, their bangles making musical notes. Further away stood fields of sugar cane, swaying in the breeze, whispering to themselves.

Crushed sugar cane juice

best thirst quencher in summer

craved for a tumbler

Tempted to uproot some, to sink teeth into cane pulp. With sickle cut at the tall cane. Sweet so sweet, every drop drained, swallowed, passed down the gullet to the stomach, cooling all the senses. Satiated slept till the sun set.

Hooves of big cattle

raising dust storm

like moving curtain

Followed behind like a lost sheep. Smell of freshly made toddy, reached nostrils. Brewed by the men scantily dressed, evening wind playing on their lithe dark muscular bodies. How free and untouched by modernity! Blended so easily with natural surroundings! Misplaced felt in their midst. Seeds of thought germinated instantly.

This is where search ends

Have found Utopian place

by chance the road lead