Oct 18
Burdened at childhood,
A young waif stood.
Wandered to open backyard,
With bundles of twigs on her hood.
All that she wanted - was the rotten mango,
to satisfy her yearnings and pangs of hunger.
My spoilt cousin retrieved a stick,
from the dirt laden terreno.
To assert his authority and cowardly commanded
‘’This is my land; you have no right to be here’’
And proceeded to remove the fruit with a jeer.
The little Ragamuffin took it in her stride.
Carried on her journey with a sense of pride.
A young waif stood.
Wandered to open backyard,
With bundles of twigs on her hood.
All that she wanted - was the rotten mango,
to satisfy her yearnings and pangs of hunger.
My spoilt cousin retrieved a stick,
from the dirt laden terreno.
To assert his authority and cowardly commanded
‘’This is my land; you have no right to be here’’
And proceeded to remove the fruit with a jeer.
The little Ragamuffin took it in her stride.
Carried on her journey with a sense of pride.
the young girl was probably 5, in rags and barefooted, and I was probably 8 with my cousin being just a few years older than me. At that moment of confrontation my feeling since then is that she earned that mango while the rest of us were guarding an illusion. Clearly she had been sent out to gather some wood for a fire to boil rice to feed her family.
