Social Change Poem by Rajendran Muthiah

Oh, you are an assessor weighing gold,
sitting in that silent counter cold.
Your half- broken- pot, husk and blower
have brought you up slower.
The banks have got a social change!

There goes he on a two-wheeler nice
not in that rural barber’s guise.
“ Hair-Dressor”, the name he got
once he left that village rot.
What a change from his abode of flies!

A timber-dealer in that noisy shop,
never allows his old ware trade to flop.
With rags he was in a shack;
but now he does all with knack.
A shift in place has put him atop!

Oh, you that black-smith waited for grains
and lay grilling in the hot summer near drains!
You fabricate now steel – designs
and the plough you made once whines!
Your life with machines has so much rains!

Hey, you washer-man in a vast yard!
Where has gone that ass, your village bard?
Potters have a life of ceramic charm;
band masters are in colourful clothes warm.
And the Mason wields his “Master-Card”!

O you that farmer driven to the city
when god of rains to the fields denied pity!
Your plough and whip have no roles
and the city your woe tolls.
Your loaded back breaking inspires a ditty.