Farmers - Our Unsung Heroes

I watch you with reverence and gratitude.

I watch your bare feet touch the red carpet. Feet that dance to an old, familiar rhythm, like a well-oiled machine, now drag themselves in an overwhelming, foreign world of plastic men and monstrous machines, that doesn’t feel like home.

You come as a visitor, but leave as a hero, touching my life for but a moment, with your innocent joy that speaks a forgotten language of simplicity and undiluted hope.

Your starched white dhoti cannot hide the earth that still clings to your feet with a love that is but mutual. The towel that you wear over your shoulder is the only symbol of celebration of a much-awaited outing to some place outside of home.

Your unassuming cloth bag which hangs from your arms is filled with new knowledge and “goodies” that you have gathered here. It has a space like your heart, that is giving and unassuming, that speaks of a love with the soil that spans centuries. You will do anything for that love it seems, just like a parent would for a child….But I silently hope that you will not forget that inherent instinct of a parent, in the flurry of “goodies” that a new and fast-changing world taunts you with. I pray that you will listen to your heart and do what you know is best for your child. For that I believe is the way out of this mire – for both you and me. And so I wish that your little bag and heart be filled with love and abundance. I wish the same for the rest of your tribe.

You give of your heart and soul, toil in the sun and rain, pray with all your heart for fair weather, raising each plant like your own child, only to give them away without holding back, to a stranger you have never met. I salute your trust and compassion for all of life.

Today, when I see my morsel of food, I will give thanks to you.....for I can smell your sweat in it. I can smell the sacred soil that gave life to both you and me, for we are one.

I can feel your heavy breath blow life into each mouthful, as you worked tirelessly against all odds, even when you were on the verge of giving up. I can feel your chapped fingers grace me with their unconditional love.

I can hear the sound of your feet against the moist earth as you ploughed and tilled day after day with a complete surrender that I struggle to understand and make peace with even today. I can hear the songs that you sang as you worked from dawn to dusk, that spoke of your joy and passion for living, and your tireless spirit.

I can taste the love and joy that you infused in it with your whole soul, as you sank your feet and fingers into the fragrant earth. I can taste the salt in your tears while you lay down to rest on a cold mud floor after a long day's work, wondering when you will find redemption from the endless cycle of debt and hope.

I can see your bare torso glisten with sweat in the warm sun; I can see the shimmer in your eyes as they crinkle up to form a smile or a tear; I can see your heart rip itself open to give and live for the moment, because you have known that that is all you and I have.

Yes, you are the unsung hero here. You deserve much more than this silent red carpet welcome - for you are the sacred channel between the earth and each of us. You give us our daily bread. And I bow down and salute you dear friend.