Here is a Groundnut vender
Pulling his cart Standing barefooted
At the entrance of a temple
Ask not his profession which changes
He is a farmer he himself is a seller
And the pillar to his family
Age old his profession, aged he is
I wandered who eats those Peanuts
True to the fact, none to nuts
What this generation eating?
Colored, decorated imported food!
Yes, none to the nuts.
Pulls his cart to the shades in the noon
Drags under the roof when it rains in the evening
None buys his nuts!
End of the season the money which he earns
Would not even buy him a pair of a cloth
He heads back walking to his village
With a temple Ladu in his pocket
To his awaited children.
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