The migrants
The migrants
Foursome on highway
A man and his wife
Son and teenage daughter
A family of four
Daily wage earners
Called migrant workers !
Our country men
Dejected and shattered
Livelihood battered
Misguided and misinformed
Feeling of left over
Sense of helplessness
Overwhelmed with a thought
To escape from present plight
Embarked on an a journey
To reach their home
A Paradise to them
At far end of the Highway
Quietly they sneaked
Through boundaries of States
Avoiding the identity
As “ ours and their ”
Walking all through
By days and by nights
Covering hundreds of miles
Not once lost sight of their home
At far end of the road
Under sky at night
Rested for breath
Under shadows of trees
They dried their sweat
Load of belongings on their heads
Drooping shoulders with heavy bags
Soiled clothes and torn shoes
Swollen heels with blistered feet
Scorching heat as sun was harsh
Walked on sides of burning road
All through days and all through nights
Nothing deterred their thought to flight
To reach their Home
At far end of the way
When asked by media
Where do you go ?
Reply was short
' To home '
And spoke no more
While country slept,
They did not sleep
The spectators wept
They did not weep
While blessed had meals
They had nothing to eat
They tamed the hunger
By licking salt on fingers
Kindness descended some days
With platters of food on the way
Gratis accepted showing no gratitude
Buds of emotions numbed in them
By flame of desire burning in them
Thirteen days and thirteen nights
Relentlessly they walked
Days and nights were one to them
Fourteenth morning was day of awakening
In light of dawn the Paradise was seen
Sigh of relief to beleaguered minds
Walloping tears for rest to eyes
Cries of joy were loud and wide
Filled ambience from earth to sky
Hearty welcome at their Home
Amidst emotional family reunion
The gloom got drowned
As ordeal was over
The trauma forgotten
Absence was conspicuous
Organisers were missing !
To honour the Heroes of Road
Not for, short runs, up to a mark
But for a Barefoot Cross Country Walk !
Greatest Organiser
Of all events of universe
Almighty GOD was there
To honour The Desperadoes
With the Tallest Reward
“ THE HAPPINESS OBSCURE “
This poem is dedicated
To millions of Migrant Workers
Who were still on the roads
******