The reason I’m writing a letter is to tell you that I am fine
Many years ago, mills were the only source of income for the people of Mumbai. 250000 labors and relying on them were 600000 people for food. The salary wasn't more but labors were still happy.
One day came, which changed the history of Mumbai forever. 18Th January 1982 when labors of mill went on a strike. Months turned into years and passed by. Now after 31 years to the strike is still on. Labors are fighting for their rights.
It is said that a big city’s foundation is based on some filthy truth this is the filthy truth of Mumbai. Mumbai, which has now become the city of gold. This poem is based on this filthy truth of Mumbai.
Hamida , my best friend hamida.
The reasons I’m writing a letter is to tell you that I am fine.
The childhood memories, that tastes of tamarind lingers on.
I know you were jealous of me during my engagement when you heard that I would go to Mumbai after marriage.
I always lied to you that I stayed in a palace.
In a room smaller than our bathroom, I die a slow death.
The paltry income of my husband would hardly suffice. But money was required to carry out menial tasks.
It’s been four months since my children went to school.
No fees, no food … I don’t know what to do.
After all these years, I pity those cockroaches.
I have realized how horrible the insecticide tastes.
I really have.
The reason I’m writing a letter is to tell you that I am fine.