Monday, October 15, 2012

Nowhere to go

The station is his palace, the platform his bed
His life is filled with unmatched freedom, wants it no other way instead

Armed with his polythene bag, he grinds for his daily bread
Scrounges for plastic bottles, in every shape and size he can get
Spends everything he has, says no reason to save
It will be stolen anyway, let me live my royal way

He hides from me under the platform stairs, whitener fluid in hand
Sniffing it all day, it feels being back in his mother's lap

He was six; his uncle brought him to this town he did not know
Six more years have passed; the life promised is still unknown

He has no future, just as he has had no past
Still he lives with fervor, with hopes that just forever last.

-Pranav Kapoor, 1st year