*Perils of Poverty and a Girl child*
A ray of morning light entered the house,
I ran to catch, even stretched my arms.
But to my utter dismay, tiny hands
Could only find younger siblings’ broken toys.
Though my fingers were small, yet
Time kept loading responsibilities bigger than my size.
The lamp of hope that I tried to light
Was extinguished moment by moment by storm of time.
Neither of the parents thought about my studies.
Reading-writing never came in my lap.
Often cleaning utensils and doing household chores
I always decorated only others’ houses.
Whenever I got hold of a child’s book
Everyone just laughed and made my fun.
Never could I rise and raise my voice
The oppression of poverty taught and made me wise.
I could entertain my heart and soul
by turning over again and again
only a few torn pages and a broken pencil
Which I carefully kept hidden under the sheet.
