THE TALE OF RANGI, THE SERVANT MAID

    Right from her childhood she spent her days

      In backyards scrubbing and rinsing utensils

      Sweeping dusty rooms and washing clothes

      Listening to reprimands and curses crude;

      Not used to childhood pleasures and pastimes

      Not used to playing with dolls and with mates

      Not used to going to school and learning skills

     A stranger she is to letters and figures

     All her years spent in midst of dirt and grime;

     Tears welled up in her eyes when she beheld 

     Kids of her age fluttering like butterflies

     In trim, neat uniform going to school

    With shouts of mirth greeting each other;

    Her world—hard toil spent in filthy surroundings

    Her tender palms roughened with household chores

    Accustomed to daily taunts and drudgery;

    In course of time she got used to her state

    Mere complaining she thought a useless task

    She accepted her lot with a hardened heart

    She tried to find pleasure in her routine

    Though others spurned her as a servant maid

    Her drunkard father with foul threats and brutal blows

    Snatched her earnings though she protested in vain;

                                  ( I I )

   None christened her name; neighbors called her "Rangi"

   Named after the pretty goddess of wealth;

   A common background in them she found

   All poor, unlettered, migrant struggling slaves

   Compelled to forego their childhood golden years

   Compelled to drudge to help their starving families;

   Compelled to bear the burden of bludgeoning debts.

                                     ( I I I )

  Two decades went by in monotonous way

  Starting early to work and returning late;

  Though time went on with no perceptible change

  Age blossomed in her form with passing years

  Her blooming youth made her agile and   strong

  Like a wild flower with natural charm;

  Her graceful gait and her sweet rustic voice

  Her dark long hair and her dark shiny skin

  Lent her a pretty, attractive glow;

  Her earnest work and her submissive nature

  Endeared her to all as a lovable, gentle maid;

  In every wedding function and festive event

  An active role she played helping others unsought;

  She never worried about her future

  Too bleak and uncertain with no ray of hope;

  For her to get a square meal every day

  Seemed a blessing and never did she think

  About her wedding and happy settled life—

  Too far for her struggling, humble state.

  She brushed aside with empty smiles and feigned to blush

  If anyone joked about her wedding affair.

  She bid adieu to her future hopes and dreams

  Too distant and unreachable like stars;

  Behind her smiles and cheerful looks

  There lurks a passive surrender and silent gloom;

  To hide her woes she laughed and chatted in a merry vein;

  She felt happy in seeing others’ happy state;

  A gloomy future waits for her—she knows

  To stay as a maid lifelong or be a drunkard’s wife

  And slog through life bearing insults and blows;

  Like a sad refrain of an old tragic song.

  If destiny wills and smiles on her innocent face

  A simple rustic with a sympathetic heart

  May come and like her tender and gentle heart

  Untarnished by guiles and double dealing tricks;

  And feel blessed to wed her with no greedy demands

  To make his hut happy with her lovely presence;

  Let us wish her all joy and future bright

  A due reward to recompense her burdensome past.

               *****************************

       3rd April, 2020                                  Somaseshu Gutala