The little angel
making music through
anklets tied to her bony ankles
I sit in the car, impatient at a traffic light
In scorching heat, rivulets of sweat run
down my spine; and
suddenly her little hands stick on
the window of my car
I shrink back...black, beady eyes stare at me
And I see the horror in those eyes for the first time
Innocent face breaks into a smile
showing dirges of poverty
Huh- a pride of father's harvest....burns on!
She cups her hand, grubby with dirt and asks for alms
Why! you scum of the society, I say to myself
A voice whispers in my head....
Why blame a child with colors so strong?
Cowering beneath a monstrous ego,
I succeed in thinking unconventionally....
I take out a crisp ten rupee note and place it on her hand
she smiles back filling every latitude of my heart with love..
Humanity hasn't exhausted even though the rulers and nations have
Exhaustion is mental...think differently; feed the poor
Let their blown-empty bellies be full with food
Bless them, purify yourself by humanity's blood
And then may be...
we can prevent a child begging in this universe!