Why do I write ?

Saturday, May 24, 2014

Yellapa, the poor farmer



I got a brief respite from the turmoil of Bangalore city. A two hour drive away from the city took me to Satvik farms in Masti. There I met a young farmer Yellappa, his wife and 5 year old daughter Ankita. They lived and worked on the farm.

The little girl was lonely and had no other kids to play with on the isolated farm. She tagged along as her parents worked the farm. I asked her mother if they planned to have another child in the hope that Ankita would have a sibling to play with. That's when the mother said softly in Kannada .. "Naavu thumba badawaru amma" .. (we are very poor madam). Her voice revealed sadness and quiet resignation. What life lies ahead for us? We have nothing! Her parents were poor farmers too and she was one of six girls whom the parents struggled all thier life to raise and marry off. Her's was the same fate.

After giving birth to a girl, Yellappa decided he didn't want any more kids. His wife went under the knife to prevent any future pregnancies though deep inside she would have liked to have another child. The utter poverty and the fear of having another girl child made the decision easy for them. They were right, I thought  .. with a sense of hopelessness. Being poor in India is to live a life of daily indignity and constant strife.

Their only possessions in this world is the physical strength in the body, love for each other and their only daughter to shower all their affection on. On the way driving back into the city, Bendre's poem was played and replayed several times in my mind.

Olave namma baduku ...ಒಲವೆ ನಮ್ಮ ಬದುಕು .. Love alone is our life!

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