India is no stranger to poverty. Despite remarkable strides made in our journey to development, there remains a lot more to be achieved.
Humanity and kindness can go a long way to brighten a poor soul’s life. So instead of sitting back and merely pointing fingers at the government to eradicate poverty, it’s time we find the courage and do our part as well.
This short poem “Disregarded Palms” is my attempt to speak to your inner conscience in the hope that you take a step towards making a difference in someone’s life when you have the power to do so.
Walking fast, far, and wide
Driving big new fancy rides
Speaking aloud, tapping phones
Tinted view of the world
Behind dark-framed sunglasses
Tainted with pre-conceived notions
Indifferent glances cast aside
Eyebrows raised at lips that sigh
Hands waved rudely at those empty
Refusal is freely given,
Acceptance strictly denied
To the little kid, barely dressed
Right next to his parents, always stressed
Their baby’s cries, hardly empathized
A family of outcasts, who’ve stretched their hands
Right from the beginning of their time
Stiff arms pale in comparison
To trembling bodies
Echoing stomachs, hollowness personified
The only dream they’ve ever dreamed
Is having enough, dare say, more
To feed their tormented bellies,
To water their parched minds,
To wash the squalor away from their lives,
A dream that someone, someday
Will not look right past their screaming eyes
And will instead,
See the destruction within,
Thrust sustenance upon
Their bare, stripped arms.
Such dreams rarely materialize.
Theirs is a story of scarred hearts
Mocked by tantalizing alms
That merely walk past them, never near enough
For no matter how far they stretch,
Their palms will be scorched by the sun
And will be left to shiver each night
Empty forever, until they die
