That Little Girl

Holding a torn bag on her feeble hand

The little girl came to our courtyard 

With tears in her eyes

That had been her unwanted mate

Since her birth on this planet.

Names of God were there on her parched lips

As if she was the sacred devotee

Praying almighty to escape from her misery.

In obedience to my mother's words

I put a morsel of rice in her ragged handbag

Then she turned around and moved

In her own aimless way.

Then after her going

An unresolved question has been disturbing me that

Did she need only a morsel of rice???

As her tear-filled eyes wished something

More than it......