Kamla sits on the stairs outside a shop
Wearing a worn out sari, holding a stick
Her thick glasses dusted with dirt from ages
She keeps her left hand extended
Passerby's coins make up her living
Jamal is always on a crutch
He sleeps on the footpath outside the masjid
When one day, someone drove over him
But justice for poor is non-existent

But you
You stand in the middle of the road
While a line of cars wait
You burst crackers like it's your own backyard
The remanents splattering everywhere

Instead
Go light someone's life
Give Kamla something to eat
Give Jamal a blanket
Who may be tapping car windows at traffic signals
Begging, to overcome our ignorance