Thursday, August 20, 2009

She is five years old
She moves as fast as her legs would carry her
In her hands she carries food cartons
One too many
She makes her first stop at a tall building
She walks to the reception
Though treated with harsh words
She stands their till the owner of this food carton comes down
She stands patiently
She stands worrying that she would be late for the others
Finally he comes
Smartly dressed, a young man hailing from an upper class family
She smiles as she sees him
Yet all he returns is a glare
Grabbing the carton he turns and walks away
She turns sadly and walks out of the building
This is her life, she tells her self
No smiles does she receive
But plenty she gives
This is her life and will be, she thinks to herself
Her thoughts are broken by the cartons she sees in her hands
Within minutes she is off again
Moving as fast as her feet would take her

The sun beats down on the rocky ground
In a corner of this stony desert is a little boy
He is ten years old
But his hands do work that men many more years older than him do
In his hands is a hammer
And from the other he holds a large bolder
He hits the bolder
A small chip falls off
He collects it and moves it into the basket he has beside him
He returns to the bolder
Now wet with his sweat
He continues to hammer

Carrying the moth ball packets
He walks down busy highways
Each packet just five rupees
But today he hasn’t made enough to get his lunch
Not enough to even afford a cup of plain tea
People pass by eating and drinking
But he still remains hungry
Will anyone share with me, he wonders
But he knows very well
That will not happen
He continues
Moving a bit slower
He sees a little water puddle
A puppy slurps to quench its thirst
He kneels beside the pup, and scoops a bit of dirty muddy water
Into his hands
The pup moves a little to a side
As to give him room
They share the water
They leave the little water puddle together
New friends
With his new four legged pall by his side
He sells moth ball packets
Each packet just five rupees

Night falls
And one corner of the city
In a dump yard a light shines
Three small figures huddle together
Beside a small fire
A days work is done
Not much collected
But enough to buy a small loaf of bread
A company of three is now four
As the little puppy runs into the arms of his new friend
Huddled together they all share the meal
Hugging each other with the puppy between them
They sleep