By Shamik Banerjee
February 24, 2023
With swaying gait, the henhussies, along the green strip go;
each earthen pot, their hands have caught, that waggle, waggle so.
The towelettes, they headcarry; are even and upright;
alike the day, they too are gay, and jigging with its light.
The event's mood, is skirted with, the small pond and the lea;
'round bypath there, circuits the air, beneath each Peepal tree.
The bed of leaves, laid on the track, crackle below their feet
and blue-born Sky, up enarched by, hearkens the Koel's tweet.
Schoolward from home, small lad and girl, young maiden and the boy;
observe the view, strolling in queue; this beauty they enjoy.
In cloaked-up face, the henhussies, smile too and delight fill;
through as they pass, upon the grass, ensweep their Sarees' frill.
They travel to, the river-berth, immured by stones and walls;
to cleanse attires, of them and sires, until the noontime calls.
They trip also, to water get; requisite for a house;
so turn by turn, each pot does earn, when made they are to douse.
The day starts to, relinquish then, the Sun to smear close more;
midday here comes, the labour sums and all must exit o'er.
Embayed by sweat, and weariness, their leave the hussies take;
the wind then soughs, farewell from boughs, until new morn's awake.
About the poem: The scenes and occurrences described in this poem are especially prevalent in India. This is an old culture. The henhussies (an obsolete term for housewives) carry many earthen pots on their heads and proceed towards the village's river, during the booming time of the day. They walk in a vacillating style and because of that, the pots also sway. Since it is morning, everything seems pleasant. The pond, the Peepal tree, the leaves, the circulating air, the sky and the songs of the Koel bird. This also happens to be the school time and the happy little boys and girls watch the housewives and make merry. The housewives too, smile back at them. The housewives have their faces mostly covered by cloaks as it a traditional practice in most Indian villages. While the wives walk on the ground, their Sarees (a traditional dress for women in India) sweep the grass. Upon reaching the river, they wash their clothes and of their husbands and fill water in the pots for the household tasks. As the day starts to turn to noon, the housewives, all tired and fatigued, take their leave and proceed to their respective homes. On their return, the wind bids them farewell for the day until next morning.
Shamik Banerjee
Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.