THE MODEST INDIGOFERA
An attractive plant,
Indigofera its name,
From the family of beans,
Purple clusters and flowered peas,
Around the world in tropical regimes.
This plant, its colour and its dye—
An antiquity of ancient times,
A hue so rich and bold,
A colorant so labour-intensive,
Treasured more than gold.
Crushed and clustered green leaves,
Softened in vats to mushy waters,
Then stirred through day and night;
Fermented deep in waiting vats,
Till green transformed in light.
Processed and ground
Into solidified blue cakes,
Triturated, fermented, macerated,
Decanted and oxygenated—
The magical blue.
Such a legacy of this modest plant!
The ships that voyaged
Through tempest, tide and foam,
Sailed around the world
And stopped at Indian shores.
They carted boxes of dye from India,
East to west and beyond,
Making it the most desirable dye.
“Magnificent blue,” they said!
The fortunes rose and grew.
A colonial commodity,
Traded across the globe,
In the realm of clothing and weaves.
This blue was prized above the rest
And became a treasure named “blue gold.”
The story of voyages does not end.
This magnificent blue gold
Had a darker side to it.
The mood board was violence—
Slavery, forced labour and indenture!
Migration, colonization and beyond,
Touching the horrors of human trafficking.
Narratives unheard and unsung, they were!
The saga of slavery and capitalism
Persisted for decades and centuries unending.
The bleeding hues of red,
White and black made devil’s blue.
With Black lives bought and sold,
They made blue the devil’s colour too—
The bitter blue of gold.
What a legacy of this modest plant!
The memory of the stain,
The blue gold of old—
A hue so rich, so deep and bold,
Authoritative and empowered,
Yet fractured by oppression
And exploitation.
SHELLY JYOTI