Daughters of Indian Soil This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

By
Our daughters go abroad to marry
Rich men speaking funny languages.
Why, they do not even know
How to grind a coconut on the sill,
Or draw water from the well.
With much love, for the little ones,
When we were babies, I remember,
Saddled on mammas sari-draped waist
Our thirst was quenched with the fresh spring;
And in that spring, would die,
The sweat and tears of dead villagers,
The plague drew them to bhagwaan each year.
Our daughters are blind,
They are a living shame
For in their heart is the Indian spirit
Caged in and imprisoned
In a culture that they do not belong to
Our daughters of Indian soil.



This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.






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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

IamtheshyStargirl said...
Jul. 18, 2011 at 11:37 am
Lovely, and sad. Rain in my heart.
 
A_shy_dove said...
Jul. 15, 2011 at 10:15 am
Please do keep writing. 
 
A_shy_dove said...
Jul. 15, 2011 at 10:13 am
This poem hits straight to the heart. So touching.... Reminds me to keep grounded. Dhanyavaad..
 
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