Of Loving The Wrong One.

You cornered my heart,
You cornered me as well.
My soul it was shaken
It left my bones and skin.
I changed then onward.
But to love you I was akin.
Left everything my heart once etched.
What had loving you to me fetched?

The passion burnt me and my desire.
My heart was warm, my soul on fire.
The heat destroyed me and me alone.
I knew better to cease my loving.
The affection and the day dreaming.
The people started to mourn
For the dying person I had become.
My iridescent sadness it outshone.
Outshone the love I had for you.
The sadness in me now pellucid.
With anger that could not be hid.
Anger was alive with myraids of emotions.
Red and blue and black and grey.

I leave you now. Regret will follow.
I have steeled my hear and barred my soul.
Eyes averted and nose away from you.
To a path of self discovery.

                                                                 pE@c3-dr. Diksha

Market Building and the mistakes of Being Born.

We went shopping today to the crowded and plentiful Market Building. There are many buildings however. The place is teeming with many people and many vendors. You can get possibly everything that you want out there. And like every other resplendent business area in India this place is in no shortage of beggars.

When I first came to India, they asked me if I like the country. Oh yes, I love this country. Very much. It is diverse and truly Incredible. Then they asked me what I hate the most about India. I took a moment to think because I didn't want to say anything offensive to my fellow Indian mates and then I got my answer. I hate the fact that despite being a rich country there are many who still drown in poverty. And then I burbled along in a mellifluous tone about the beggars because I didn't want to offend my fellow Indian mates.

I have been to this so called Market Building many times before. Today is a warm day. The heat is building up here now that spring has arrived and would soon lead to the summer season and it will become unbearably hot here (and thank goodness for the AC in hostel). 

And I am being chased by several little kids. Beggar kids. Trodden, down looked and malnourished  They are filthy and hungry. I see some of them have managed to get half eaten ice creams.

I don't give a damn. If there is no better way to put it! I have been chased before and I have given them coins and coins and coins and ran out of coins but the beggars don't finish. New ones keep coming if they know you are handing them coins.

So today I sneered at this little filthy child who tugged my cargo pants. I glanced in his eyes and thought, "Dear Lord, his only mistake is because he was born."

Cruel to think that. I see no light in his life. He won't go to school. He will grow up in the filth of Market Building and like places. And he will produce a little one just like him.

There must be an end to this poverty cycle!