Disowned

There was an old beggar I used to see

Hands outstretched, continuing his plea

Among the garbage, sitting on the road

For he had no other abode.

The five-year-old me used to say

How does that man get to sit there every day

When I am not even allowed to go outside alone

Well, I was too young to have known.

As I grew older, it was told to me

Not to go near him, but I didn’t quite agree

So, one day I approached him, a rupee in hand

What he did after that, I will never understand.

Without touching the money I had brought

He motioned me to sit beside him

Then he said, with his face very grim

“You know, a boy just like you, I had got”.

“Where is he now?”, I wanted to know

“Oh, he is 22 now, with a lot of money to show

He is living in America, very happily, no doubt

Ever since he has thrown his poor father out.”

I couldn’t believe my ears at all

To be thrown out by the one, whom you helped crawl

To be told by your son, “I disown you”

Nobody can bear, what this beggar was going through.