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A Deadly cry of a manual scavenger

We, the voice of the most oppressed,

Work in the profession remaining the most humble,

Throughout histories, as slaves our lives still remain tumble,

With our strangled necks, we are deliberately suppressed

 

For the centuries, our voices remain unheard,

Like a weeping fish at the sea,

We are treated zombies at the rush of a blood,

Collecting by hand, the human society’s poops & pea

 

Things for us got intensely worse,

We work as a group with an isolated curse,

For our livelihood, go into manholes as bare-bodies

Mostly get out as dead-bodies

 

From pathology to oncology,

We are treated untouchables, even by the modern technology

We are the oxygen-offering trees that remain green

Hurting ourselves, collecting excreta making this world neat &clean

 

With our hand-cuffs we shout and fight,

Rulers remain drunken-deafs to our plight,

Hell with your knowledge, to those who go to college

And keep pushing us to the drainage,

We remain living dead and frustrated, to get our right

 

When asked about work, we remain dumb and blind,

Fearing the responses to our ***** revelations,

Because humans are unemphathetic and unkind

To get our life some elevations.

 

Our mind said us “Please think! Please Think!”

When we revolt not to work, societies stink,

We warn, Witness your locality *****

To our sufferings, if you keep blank & empty.

 

We are a collective voice,

Representing inhuman humanity,

That keeps the society on a poise,

So raise your voice, with a clarity of choice

To get us work with the utmost dignity!

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L
Written by
L16081995
23 / M / India
Published
Sep 24, 2018
Lines·Words
34·254
Notes

Manual scavengers is a decent term. People who collect human and animal excreta on bare hands are the manual scavengers. The quality of these people in the south-east Asian countries like India remain pathetic. Their voices are often neglected and ignored by the rulers. They remain struck in a state of vicious circle, where poverty and untouchability keeps chasing them continuously and push them towards this work. This poem is a pain of the masses that had been engaged in manual scavenging for centuries immemorial that continues unlikely, till the present day. Rulers don’t offer the mandatory occupational standards and technological support to the manual scavengers. The motive of this poem is to voice their concerns to help them work peacefully and offer them a dignified life. This poem is written in the style of a ballad.

Tags
#manual#scavenger#empathy#suppressed#oppressed#humanity#technology#love#selfrespect
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