Children of Lesser God

                                                         

She wipes that gummy hanky on her nose

As a speedy vehicle just misses her an inch close

Her tattered dress and dusty feet

Contradicts the smile with which she greets

Her house is the temple besides the crossing

Where the time of evening prayer is her only outing

She seems to be in her early teens

Other girls from her town have been earning through other easy means

She doesn’t know if she is scared or too full of self esteem

To not give into those filthy means

I somehow see her everyday

When I halt at the signal, in scorching sun and under clouds grey

Too early in her life, has she been told to earn

She begs on that signal, as her feet burn

As soon as any school van halts at the cross

She sees some kids frolicking, and some in their books, so engrossed

She wonders what must be in those sheets

That they become learned, and she becomes a beggar, so dependent and meek

Her curious mind asks are they so exceptional, and she just a part of masses?

She wonders if all those luxury cars that halt, drop their glasses

And pray to a different god just for a fleeting while

For she, who stays in the house of god,

Lives a life so hostile