[SYNOPSIS: Poverty strikes the very root of livelihood. But as they say "Fate favours those who help themselves"! To earn a descent living is our right.
This poem speaks of an eventful day in the life of a father-son fishers' duo. It
brings out the skill and the hope they use as a weapon against poverty!!]
The season’s catch
Mighty stood the lake gruesome and grim
Still moments to dawn, dark and dim
A silhouette stood, farther to horizons
The day’s first boat, arrogant beyond reasons
Withstanding the icy winds they hurried
Thru the busy waters, faces pale and worried
Young eyes half tired and half dreaming
Careful least his father rebukes of over-sleeping!
Cautiously, they poled the punt offshore
Praying of a catch as of the days of yore
Dawn outstretched its arms to a bright day
Yet with no early luck his net vaguely lay
The lake now a flood of ambitious poachers
Some still out of luck, others joyous
They shifted weight, the young one tried
The first shot and they loudly cried!
Today’s first, his catch ever best!
Testifying credentials was his broadened chest.
Gigantic streamlines sparkled the proud eyes
Brimmed with tears, yet thankful to the blue skies!
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