Often we are affected deeply when we learn of our roots and of our history. This poem is a representation of a very prominent part of my family history. The poem is a very basic illustration of how the land owner in Kerala reacted when he was faced with Communism, as my forefathers were. The laborers treated as inconsequential slaves till this point rose up against the bourgeoisie to claim “the land” and the oppressive bourgeoisie (my great grandparents) were forced to give in their own property.
“This is my land, my field”, I muse
As I aim for goal at the far end
My field forever to use,
Mine to protect and defend.
My land for play and leisure,
My ground to put me at ease,
Forever my concealed treasure,
Mine to do what I please.
But what is that thing defiling my land
A servant, stepping into my sanctuary!
It must think itself grand,
Or must have lost all his sanity.
What could that thing want?
Look! Heavens it invites me to play
Why does this creature taunt
Me; how do I send it away?
Hark! More of them follow
An army of these creatures on my land!
And now they play, seeming mellow,
And I am left with no place to stand.
Oh lord! I have fallen,
They’ve pushed me out of their way
My land, my land it’s stolen
Now they use it for their play.