AMONG THE DRUNKARDS

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Twice a month I go to Hariahati and drink haria

Among the drunkards, peasants and labourers all,

Two pigs skinned and men have their heyday!

 

Round some fat women, haunch men nine or ten,

The fire fall on rugged cheeks, eyes shine bright,

And they drink and brawl, howl and growl.

 

The mango grove screened four sides by

Swaying paddy fields stretched miles upon miles,

And yonder on a huge treetop fifty white herons bask.

 

No tin shade, no tarpaulin over heads

And when the rains fall, they drench open,

And mad eyes glue to the wet women!

(First published in Setu)

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Abu Siddik

Abu Siddik

It's all about the unsung , nameless men and women around us. I try to portray them through my tales. I praise their undying suffering and immaculate beauty. And their resilience to life's vicissitudes, oddities, and crudities I admire. They are my soulmates who inspire me to look beyond the visible, the known, the common facade of the educated and the intellectuals.

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