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Ode to a Fisherman
.
He reads night-sky
like the veins on the back of his palm;
an inherited alphabet.
He awaits a uniquely starlit moment
to hoist the wind onto the sails.
His compass is the stars.
A solitary star to ward-off evil,
another for snoozing the howl of a storm.
[This is a poem about ascertaining that fisherpeople engage in an act of technical know-how relevant to their profession though unrecognised in the casteist environment which relegates them as “unclean” or uncivilised.]
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Updated On : 19th Jul, 2021
