Tag Archives: beggar

Rain.

Previous Word : Fire.

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As she walked out of her office, she was greeted by a gust of wind! She took her ear phones out to hear windows rattling and dust sweeping across. She needed to cool off after a long, bad day! A drop of water fell on her cheek. She saw a cab slow down. Her place was ten minutes away. She decided to walk down today.

He didn’t like rains. But he had to be home on time today. He and his umbrella were walking down the road in search of transport. The strong winds shook the umbrella like a leaf. Once. Twice. Thrice. By then the umbrella was useless and he was already wet. Disgusted, he folded his umbrella and kept walking down the ankle deep water. A car passing by at full speed on the pothole riled road sprayed dirty, brown water over him! He hated the rains.

Her boyfriend was working late tonight. She was home alone. She loved water. Sitting by the open window, sipping her coffee she felt the water droplets sprinkle across her face. The rain kept picking up pace. A lightning streak lit up the sky. It was followed by a thunder as strong! She shuddered. Pulling the curtains across the window, she went into her room to get her book and ear plugs.

He shivered with cold. The wind was getting colder. His skin was getting hotter. The tattered blanket he had was barely helping. The lights from the portico of the hotel nearby were inviting. He started dragging himself towards the hotel. There were cars coming in. The guards shooed him away. They wouldn’t even let him sit on the marble floor. He sat on the footpath, shivering, rain now seeping through his matted, unkempt hair.

Graciously Yours!

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At God’s Door.

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AT GOD’S DOOR.

The Sun scorches my body,
I shield my eyes with my hand,
Flicking away the black ants,
Which crawl over me uninvited.

The tattered cloth barely covers my nakedness,
I writhe and lie in pain,
The Gods I have resigned to,
Lying in front of His sacred precinct.

A shadow falls over me,
There’s a respite for a while,
I open my eyes to see a towering figure,
Back towards me in black,

Maybe my time has come along,
Was that the God of Death I see?
Was I to be finally relieved,
Of the life of pain and suffering?

I hear the clanging of coins,
Was that a Messiah instead giving me money?
I crane my neck to look beside me,
But there’s no sign of the silver metal.

The striking pain in my neck is back,
Where I hurt myself from that wretched, jagged piece of rock,
I put my head on the ground again,
That figure in black still present.

Alas! The Sun is back on me,
That was a mere mortal,
Pursuing God for problems of his own,
While my life continues to take the life out of me.

Almost every day, I see  a poor, old man lying right in front of a religious place (which I refuse to mention because of it’s complete irrelevance) and many people like me pass him by with our own problems raging in our heads. I’m not proud of it. At all.

Graciously Yours!

P.S. : This isn’t a post about religion. Or faith. It is about humanity. Or our lack of it.