Trigger Warning
A boy wanders around,
the pile of garbage,
searching valuables,
thrown and no more useless,
but for him,
they are long lost gold,
for he lives in slums,
searching garbage all day long,
struggling and striving,
to earn a living.
He a refugee,
yearns to go to school,
and says,
one day if there is any school,
I will go too,
but alas,
that will be a dream,
unknown and unfulfilled,
forever and ever.
His eyes sparkles,
with rays of hope,
but he is stuck,
in the vicious cycle,
poverty-stricken and,
stuck in the midst,
of two spectrums,
one expecting him,
to carry forward his tradition,
and one,
to beat all odds,
and be a ‘motor-mechanic’.
Her hands move mechanically,
like a robot,
innocently obeying the tradition,
making red bangles,
not knowing,
that one day,
she herself will be a bride,
wearing red bangles, draped in red henna,
head veiled in red.
Unknowingly, she sits there,
continuing the tradition,
not knowing that one day,
she won’t be able,
to have one full meal,
for those bangles,
like handcuffs,
will enslave her,
in the kitchen all day,
without getting a chance,
to satisfy her hunger.