From the Corners of Crowded Streets

A HAPPY FAMILY

During the busy hours, I see them
Sitting in the crowded street.
She is holding her sari by the hem
Stretched in front, covering her bare feet.

He is busy with their little child
Playing with his dishevelled head,
People move about their jobs,
No time to spare a glance.

They sit fearless, with no masks,
Not bothered by the deadly disease,
They struggle from morning to dusk
To try to survive in the mad race. 

Passing by the street, the other day,
I saw a man in casual dress give
A fifty rupee note with grace,
An honest effort no doubt to lessen their stress.

The aid seemed to be insignificant
But enough to bring a smile on the face of the child. 
I saw their tears start to fall
And left them alone for a while.

A new dawn begins, the same old story
Again the search for money and food,
Nothing new for the family that sits 
And waits for its future to unfold.



THE FINAL MOMENTS

I got a strip of a letter, you wrote 
Two years before you breathed your last.
Having survived the ventilation scare
You used to sit all the day on the sofa,
Eyes often closed, rarely open in despair.


'Loneliness so painful,'
You wrote,
'But we all have to go.'
You had been surrounded by us,
Still you were so lonely!
Does loneliness come with age?
You often recalled Tagore's lines,
'Life, Youth and Wealth run off 
In the flowing tide.'


Alone in space and time
You seemed to live and mix
With old memories,
Everlasting 
Childhood, and thereafter,
Some events which were
Hard to forget.
Your mind didn't want to leave
The caring milieu-
But you did know the truth,
And quoted the famous lines
Of Michael Dutt in the letter,
'Life always ends in death–
Nobody is immortal
Water of a running stream 
Can never be short of breath!'

I can now feel
What was going on in your mind.
Can imagine how my final moments 
Will unwind!