Child Labour

Burden so heavy

Feels like carrying death for some rupees with dreams of living a better life

At this age I have learnt how to fight and strive

Legs so weak no strength to stand

Dirt all over, no other option I have, Scorching heat or chilling winter evenings.

The sides of the lanes is where you will find me taking a nap

My house? The place which makes me reminded of my life's truth

No food just tears

Habituated to see my parents begging desperately on the roads

Fights and violence

Those red marks on the faces

My mother touched by many

I saw her keeping quiet

At the night when she came wearing the tattered saree

Shame and regret was all I had

Beated by many

Brutally and mercilessly

No they aren't my parents

They are the people who gave me work whose leftover food is what I eat

So that I don't get thrown away

I am compelled to cry on their feet

SCHOOL? isn't it heaven

I have seen the children in the nearby school opening the tiffin boxes when the clock strikes 11

Sometimes I hear the teacher scolding them

Giggling behind the walls when I try to see them play different games

Childhood is the best part of life

I didn't know that, was it meant to be nice?

The world runs on money and not on feelings of the poor like me and the family of mine

The world accepts the wings

The one which are made of earnings

The one which always shine