Nimble Fingers

Want to share my thoughts on my experiences with the women in garment factories- their stories that were shared with me, will always haunt my conscience and question today's capitalism and its misconduct, the daunting difference of the abled and wealthy and the weaker less abled and poor. The difference that would widen to infinity by the seconds we pass through each day.

I could only but capture a glimpse in the following lines...

Bunk bed to factory line,
you sweat each day for kith and kind.
Your finger tips run over cloth,
stands high a nation with wealth you brought.

Your parents rest in their old age,
strong is the house made with your wage.
Five pitiful years you had to pass,
and still your hunger has to last.

Your sister, young, was given as bride,
with pride no second to any kind,
you made her dowry mighty high,
and hushed the in-law vanity tight.

Young brother, he too graduated soon,
with nothing less, a first class too.
Happy tears ran down your cheeks the day
you saw him grab the medal away.

Your sacrifice did pay off well,
yet still you sew, when they excel.
Thank God he dropped you out of school
Subversive fate- remorseful hell.