There are kids who get plenty of pocket-money to spend on fast-food, cold-drinks, comics and other goodies... yet their greed never ends...and pocket-money never stays...and they are ever complaining...but yet there are other kids ...who are not even treated as kids...and they work very hard the whole day...but can never save a penny on their name...they work as daily-wagers...and get a sum of mere Rs. 50 /- every day....and if they miss a single day....what they get is...starvation,misery,rancour...
This poem is dedicated to all such kids....who work ...but ...
This poem is dedicated to all such kids....who work ...but ...
"For A Fifty-Rupee Note"
Water that washes
Your dirty vestibules
And slimy verandas
Always bear
Tiny drops of my sweat
That I have sold
For a fifty-rupee note.
Food that I cook
For you and your
Starving customers,
Tells the story
Of my Starvation
Which I bear
For a fifty-rupee note.
I sleep all night,
Dreamlessly reposing,
Wrapped in my
Tattered blanket,
On a dirty little cot.
As my dreams're sold
For a fifty-rupee note.
You hit me hard,
I cry not a bit.
You call me names,
I smile shamelessly.
I have no shame,
As I have sold it ,
For a fifty-rupee note.
People fear me,
For I may be
A dangerous criminal.
I have no manners,
And no etiquettes
As I've not learnt any
For a fifty-rupee note.
.......
6 comments :
amazing write .. speechless . clearly potrays the pain n grief ... loved the cause .. you are the best !!!
it was really very touchy...
"Dreamlessly reposing,
Wrapped in my
Tattered blanket,
On a dirty little cot.
As my dreams're sold
For a fifty-rupee note"
---so realistic , So touching....
this poem is really nice i don't have word for it to tell about this poem
Just brutally beautiful. the agony and apathy juxtaposed in one spine-chilling monologue. This is the truth of our great society... the hallmark of our "civilisation".
brutally beautiful. agony and apathy juxtaposed in one unnerving verse. the real face of our "civilisation".
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