THE WEAVERS OF MY TOWN

 They   call  themselves   as   saaliyar   community. 

 In  the   north  of   my   hometown,

   the   weavers  squatted   long  back,  

    during  the   pre-independent   period,

    and   made  coarse  cotton  robes  for   British  sepoys,      ( 5 )

    much  to  the  appreciation   of   English  bosses.                                  

  

 Together  as   one   clan  they  occupied                                                  

     many   a  street,

     lanes ,  bypasses   and    narrow   pathways,

     they   propagated   into   nine   streets.                                 ( 10 )

  Built  tile-roof  houses,                                                                           

  and   wove   clothes   all  the  day ,  all the  night.                                  

A  community   of   one  hundred  thousand.

They   grouped  together, 

  intermingled,  and   married   within their   caste,                  ( 15 )

 to   beget   generations   of  men  and  women,                                       

 till  no   one  knew  who  their  ancestors  were.                                   

The   weaving  apparatus ,  their  only  asset.

Waking   in  the  vee-hours  of  morning,

 after  a   breakfast   of    sweet   kesari, uppumaa  and   tea,     (20)

  they  weave  till                                                                                        

 they   lose  all  their   sweat  or                                                                 

 the  sun  goes   right  over  their  heads.

 Widowed   women   in  white   saris,

Un-bloused , bare-  footed ,                              (25 )

  spin  thread  in  gandhian  charka –wheel, 

Under  the  shady   neem  trees ,  along  the streets,                                

listening  to  tales  of  neighbours, gossiping, 

chatting  innocently  of   everyone  except  themselves.                         

They  convened    local  assemblies,                   ( 30 )

to  hear  family   disputes,                                                                   

and  solved  almost  every  serious   issue,                                         

other  than  Nuclear  weapons  program  and    Iraq  civil  war.

 I  love  to  look   at   those  streets,

 that  community  of   weavers, young  and  old,    ( 35 )

 aged   elders  torn  and  battered   due  to  working.            

Each  time  I  go  to   buy   kerosene  and  wheat,                                  

from  public  distribution   ration  shop,

I  watch   this   Saaliyar  community  with   eagerness.

But,  each  time   I  visit  their  street,                        ( 40 )

One  thing  that  irks  my  eyes,                                                               

the  weavers   who    clothe  everyone  in  my  state,                             

remain  without  shirts  and  always   half-naked.              ( 43)

                                                     ---   Ramesh     Iyengaar

Glossary  :

Sepoys                       ----    Hindi   word   that  means   ' soldiers '

Saliyar  community   ----  weaving  class  community  in  southern

                                             Tamil  Nadu

Charka  wheel           ---- the  circular  spinning  wheel  for   winding

                                           thread

Kesari                       ----   sweet  dish   prepared  with  wheat   sooji ,

 ghee,  raisins  and   cashewnuts

Uppumaa                 ----   a    savoury   pudding  made  with   wheat 

sooji   and   pulses