In the midst of glory
I was plodding around;
Came to a hut, dilapidated & round;
Lay a woman with rags on.

Her two children
Shoved in a corner,
A paper hiding
The naked body of theirs;
The empty house ----
With nothing around
But the emaciated mother
And the sick children's frown.

Tears floating down her cheeks,
Her body shuddering,
A picture of desperation ---
A picture of frustration ---
Fighting with the world and herself
She being defeated once and again.

I asked her who she was
I asked her why she was here
I asked her how she reached here
Bearing an unbearable silence, she answered none.

An unending pause, --- disturbed
Said she ----"Who am I, know I not
I have no work, no food to eat
Burnt in my mind are events past
My children like beggars
But we are not beggars.

I promised her food
But she refused
She wanted work
That I had none ---
And I came out,
My self respect bowing in front,
My helplessness coming in front
"Oh! God where have I come?"

Who doesn’t like numbers and numbers especially when they quantify a journey. The last post was my 100^th poem (read more as scribbles) on this blog. This is a poem (a repost) that I had written almost 10 years back for my school magazine. The date in my diary reads Jun 14, 1997.

I generally do not read my writings over and over again. I actually lose track of them after a few days but I have read and reread this poem several times over these years. It has a sense of helplessness in it that questions my sensibilities when going gets wrong … especially making me appreciate other’s sensitivity … making me aware that there are less privileged people than me but by no means lesser in self respect …. and at the cost of not going overboard making me understand what being humane is all about … I thought it is a good time to revisit the poem.

And lastly a thank you note to all of you who have taken out your time from your daily schedule to read me … thank you all