Tuesday, September 24, 2013

I close My Eyes

The Beggar woman under the tree
On the way to my office I daily see
Reminds me of the poem by Sri Sri
Titled aptly ‘Bhikshu Varshiyasi’.

In the unbearable heat of summers
In the monsoon with its thunders and rains
Through the teeth chattering, bone chilling winters
She is there, all by her self, with nowhere to go.

Staring in space, sometimes fidgeting
Perhaps for a respite she is longing

I often in guilt wonder how she is surviving

Her bedding the rags torn and tattered
Her only possession a bundle stacked
In between the branches of the tree
All this and much more I see

Now I begin to understand why
The kings of yore went around in disguise
And Gautam the Buddha closed his eyes

To help the wretched; a salvation to seek.
And I. I too close my eyes
In helplessness, hypocrisy and pretence
For no solution on Earth I see for the meek.


Nikhat Fatima

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I close My Eyes

The Beggar woman under the tree On the way to my office I daily see Reminds me of the poem by Sri Sri Titled aptly ‘Bhikshu Varshiya...