Beggar’s Eye


 
Day in and day out doesn’t make a difference,

I sit all day on the pathway,

Different people different nature,

Few with sparkling jewelry but not a penny to spare,

Few care to share from a broken wallet,

I blame none for this is my job.

 

My one and a half legs,

Stinking, torn and dirty clothes,

Dark skin unwashed for many years,

Inability to work and longing for one square meal,

Put together makes me a beggar.

 

No, I was not born to beg,

Nor was I the raja of Travancore,

Born with God’s gift deformity,

I ask goddess that I see every day, as I beg outside,

Why my mother threw me off,

And why I grew up digging the garbage box,

Envying people with two legs and parents,

What harm did I do,

For fate to be so harsh on me?

 

I see men and women passing by me,

It is not my fancy to beg,

For some say I am young and could work to earn,

If I had why I would pose in shame,

I cry out in hunger for a coin or two,

As people move unmindful of a fellow human,

Like a great favor few throw coins away from me,

I drag myself to pick them,

Few dads show me to their kids and warn I would steal,

And others advice kith and kin to study or be like me,

I laugh and ignore.

 

At dusk I count my savings and pray,

For it to fill my hungry, empty stomach,

On cursed days I sleep with a glass of water,

Blessings are rare and like a rat that sees a cheese,

I gorge a vada or two for me that’s a king’s meal.

 

Day in and day out doesn’t make a difference,

I sit all day on the pathway and beg,

Beg to know difference God who begs for attention and me..

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