Poems

Scrounging Among the Tracks

I saw him scrounging for food,

Among the tracks in distant Nagpur;

Disheveled and dirty,

Wallowing in his poverty.

What dreams his mother had,

As a baby in her loving hand.

But now oblivious to the crowds,

He feasts on the measly crumbs.

The drops of tea he collected;

From disposed cups he selected.

He bites into half-eaten idli,

And sipped the cold brew with glee.

O yes, he had company,

Rats, dogs, crows and flies to accompany;

For the few crumbs, so many

It surely is a blasphemy.

Why is life so cruel,

To those who have no gruel;

While others, who have the fuel,

Do not value it for real.

May I always value what I have–

And not take for granted what You give;

With a heart and mind of gratitude,

Lord, let me share with the destitute.

And then the train came rumbling,

All of them left to scrambling,

The bird, the beast and man looking,

For fresh throw-aways awaiting.

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