The Song,Unsung-Fathema Begum

She was a lady busy as a bee,

And spilled her sweat till the sun sank,

In its own bloody blood in the west,

She sat her feet in the paddy field,

When the dusky dawn dewed it,

 Dribbling from its drenched hair,

When the sun smiled bright,

She raised the haystack upright,

Languid afternoons she passed on loom,

Weaving the yarns into self-made cloth,

That she draped her slender body with,

The barn stood always firm and full,

As she was there to keep her watch on,

She tended the growling fire in the hearth,

And smoked the fish and the meat for the year around,

The jungle knew her and laid its bosom bare,

And there she chose the herbs from,

That she cooked the meals with,

In the earthen vessels, patient and resilient,

To stand the fire’s fury years after years,

The sunny days,

 She stuffed the bottles with veggies and fruits,

To be pickled for the coming days,

And the tales that she sung,

At the moon paled night,

To the children circling around,

All are now grazed by the virtual world. 


Dr Fathema Begum is a poet,researcher and intellectual.She is currently associated with Aasam Engineering College,Jalukbari,Guwahati.

Facebook Comments Box
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

To Top