#19 The Wall

                                                            

THE WALL

Theme: In this poem, I have tried to depict the difference in our lives and those who are living in a slum near our hostel. The view through the window of my room is so natural that it has prompted me to scribble down few lines on the lives of these people who indirectly constitute the sphere of our lives. I admit that we are dependent on tech toys as well as on them for our works. Now the question is that how much are we doing, on our part, to help them? Their contrasting life and the natural way of living inspire me to observe their activities through the grill of my window. It is a pity to think just on them and not being able to do anything for them. Through this composition, I would like you all to look down on the deprived section of the society and help them to lead a life that they dream of. Remember, no help rendered goes in vain. Let’s all pledge to lend helping hands to them who need them the most and transform this planet into a wonderful place to live symbiotically.

The wall, that wall

Not the wall of China     

That ordinary wall

Standing tall and upright.

The wall of our hostel’s periphery,

The wall-6 feet tall

And of pale pink in color.

That wall encompassing

Our tiny world

And separating theirs.

The wall stands on

The interface of the difference

Based on the economy.

The prevalent poverty

Peeps through the crevices.

Some primitive settlements

Being made on its opposite

Side in contrast to ours.

What an irony!!

Where there is everything

There lies nothing.

Our priorities are in

Opposition to those.

Where becoming successful

And famous are our dreams,

And theirs, arranging

The basic needs-

Food, clothing and settlement-

Whichever it may be

Even just a feeble tent

Will serve the purpose

Of a temporary settlement.

Their simplicity and punctuality

Are what make me awe-struck.

The commotions of the slum children

During their merry making

Breaks the silence of the ambiance.

Those blue colored tents

So carelessly planted, sway

With even faintest breeze,

But still in its place.

The mother’s lullaby

Puts the infant in deep sleep.

The whispers deep from her core

Wrapped up with her

Intensified emotions,

Float in the air

Even after the song is over,

Mesmerizing few unnoticed

Listeners like me.

We- the dependent folks

Captivated by the tech toys,

The alarm tone from the mobiles

Wakes us from slumber.

For them, the nature is

The alarm tone

And the brightness of the day

-the watch and dial.

Where accuracy has no meaning

For them but for us

It is one of the

Parameters of the cut-throat race

Or say rat race.

How contrasting are our lives!

Even inhabiting the same space

With unequal opportunities,

Separated by that wall,

Yes, that 6-feet tall

Pink colored wall.

23.08.2013

Swati Sarangi