Child Labor In City Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

“A boy must...” they all said
It was norm; norm of life
“Man must work...”

And of course
“Must defend mom and wife, ”
It said so, meant females.

If at farm work was there
In city, unaware, whatever
He ended in lamp-light

And repair of china
Dish, plate and teapot
Or the bowls, sugar-cups

Instruments not many
A drill, copper wire
And Manghal for fire

Lime powder
White of egg
And master

Boy was five; he knows it well-exact
“In village was flood, in city was revolt.”
His boss sold in-out lights and repaired.

Lime powder screened
Soft its mesh and cleaned
Egg yolk was never used

Like water for the mud in village
White of egg was used here
With the lime made mortar


Boss’s hand, though shaky
Worked perfect, accurate
Far better than level

Found pieces for the match
He cleaned big and small
Set them right, edge to edges

Lime ready on a board
And the white of the eggs
Boss would do the mixing

Drill set with its bow and the cord
Rotated long chisel; and scissors
Cut wire of copper

The mortar to both sides
After holes had been made
Boss sewed them with wires

Now tightened
Delicate; artistic
Used a thumb for caulking

Charcoal burned on the ash
The hot ash cooked the yolk
Ash-cooked yolk for the boy

Heated pot was dried
Fully sealed to hold Chai
If plate or the dish would be same

Things were well
Boss happy, clients
And the boy till that day

Racks were filled
With oil lamps and lanterns
With repaired and new chinaware

Boss was out and the child
Well trained, well-observed
Ran the shop, was the boss

Client; a lady
In the shelf far above
She chose and pointed

Ladder set he climbed
It slid from the racks
Things fell down as if rain

They shattered
And with that boy was gone
Disappeared, door open, abandoned

Their four eyes
Boss’s, his
Never met

Long after
Boss too old
Boy a man

A message came across
Boss never could make up
“He broke my spine...”

Child labor has dangers
Less is paid
Cost is much.