When still a child <br />He loved the lives <br />Lost in the wild. <br />The Madia-Gonds <br />Had captured his mind – <br />He could now find <br />Behind a tribal’s naked frame <br />A zest for life <br />Much the same. <br />Behind their myopic eyes, <br />Behind their jungly cries <br />He could see sometimes <br />Creatures more cultured and wise. <br />He could see some civility <br />In their poverty. <br />As years went by <br />He had formed with them <br />A passionate tie. <br />He could no more let <br />A Madia die <br />For want of bread <br />Or by diseases infected. <br />He gave them as his own life <br />His son and his wife. <br />He gave them the plough <br />Gave them enough know-how. <br />Blackboards and syringe <br />To them he brought. <br />To save them from abuse <br />He fought and sought. <br />He revolutionized much <br />The tribal thought. <br />Still, steal their freedom <br />He never did. <br />He only fertilized a land <br />That lay arid. <br />His action grew from compassion. <br />He fears no failure. <br />Regrets no rejection. <br />So he built a bridge of understanding <br />Between a world developed <br />And a world developing. <br />As much as he lives for those lives <br />For them so much he also dares to die. <br />He will even damn the dam <br />He cannot but listen to their genuine cry.<br /><br />Kannan G<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/k-baba-amte-1994-his-tribal-love/
