Fisherwoman From Kerala

She is not walking She’s churning the sea Sculpting hope Each step cast on the tight rope As sharp as the edge of a tidal wave! She is not watching Her eyes shower stars and dreams hung upon the barbed wire of survival! She is not breathing She’s melting the ring of fire Each flame drips the sweat of her labour into the fat belly of a shark! She is not living She is clothed in the layers of misconception chasing the light and shadow as they squeeze her body in a python grip! She is not sleeping She’s getting ready to swim on the life’s unglazed clay pot risking her self desperate for salvation! She is not rising She’s fuming with discontent fighting to get free from the claws of slavery Wrapped in her arms is a bundle of hungry children! And yet the roof over her head is a tattered norm as fragile as the ray of Sun hitting her conscience with an iron glow!