The Cyclist: Jyoti Kumari Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Lockdown turned their whole world inside out
Fifteen years old, a rickshaw driver's daughter
Cycled seven days,twelve hundred miles
Her father riding pillion as she pedalled

Three misfortunes came like thunder claps
Her father broke his leg and lost his job
Not able to pay the, they were evicted

How now to reach their village in Bihar?
One truck driver's price?6,000 rupees!
Far too much for the small fund they owned
And so, they bought a bike,500 rupees

Jyoti passed dense crowds of migrant workers
Legs aching, on she cycled, day and night
Enduring hunger, thirst, snatched hours of sleep

Gurugram to Agra to Lucknow,
Lucknow to Gorakhpur, to Darbhangi

A little food at camps, or from kind travellers
Once or twice a lift from truck or tractor
A small respite, beneath the blistering sun
Swatting away the flies, go on or drop

Uttar Pradesh to Bihar, draining strength
Then, home at last, one girl's epic journey
Screened and quarantined, but safe at last
A father, saved by his heroic daughter
The girl cyclist with a tiger's heart