Dear Madam,
You saw my grief when my wife
was attacked and killed by a wild boar
Deep in the forest where she had gone
to collect wood for the home fire
to feed the children.
How else to light the sigdi*
Without wood or coal?
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The trees were our home, our livelihood,
Did they think of us when
They planned to cut them down?
Did the environment not weep then?
I hear talk about the future of the planet
They tell us to reduce this, reduce that
We have so little to reduce.
Strange talk swirls around me
like mists in my mountain home.
What about our present? Who cares for our needs?
The rich have gas and electric stoves
Wool coats for warmth in winter
Savings for their future, plans for world cruises,
Where will I build a home
when I retire?
What kind of stove will I cook on?
How will I feed the hunger fire in my belly?
Will I have a choice?
Will I have a voice?
Will I take the blame for Global Warming?
Will the planet cool down
Without my sigdi?
*sigdi: A coal and wood stove used for cooking in North India
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Kavita Ezekiel Mendonca was an instructor of english, french and spanish before debuting as a poet in 1989
