Spectrum

She was hardly thirteen. In a
Torn blue gown had stretched
Her self on a cloth in the
Railway station lane of the port city.


Few metallic currency of my country
Was scattered around her. Hard to
Tell whether those lovely dead eyes were
Looking this world.


She was fine to look. Just
Her leg were disproportion to
Her body.


“Begging is a offence in my
Country”- A stout man
In uniform and stick scrolled
Near her to pouched all the alms.


The passer by said: “this was routine”.
Not a drop of water melted from her eyes.


But what happened next brought
Floods even in my heart and eyes.


Two stooped men, full drunken
In the name of console-ling
Felt all her hidden organs, another man peeped
Through the windows of dress.


Even then her eyes did not get wet.


Her mother came pushing both the
Loafers aside. Lifted the ‘child’ in arms.
The eyes still gazed in the same direction
Where the governments advertisement
Was hung- let us eradicate polio.