Street Diaries

I saw a lady in branded clothes,
asking twice her husband before
handing Chotu one fourth a pav,
the bhaji was missing though ;
like the roof over his head.
Old nani used to call him "Shiv",
nani died,so did the name Shiv.
(Poverty gave him a more fitting name, Chotu will remain always small.)
I saw Chutki by the footpath,
she was selling 'birthday balloons',
and I go back to her birth date;
how ants sung her a birthday song,
their gifts still lingers on her skin,
It was the same footpath.
I saw Piku sleeping on streets,
he never liked the way strange men
touched him every night in sleep,
not gonna leave the streets though,
for hunger is one scary monster,
scarier than hundreds creepy hands.
Dead eyes don't dream of fairies,
calloused feet can't chase stars,
hunger weighs more than childhood,
empty stomachs can't spell no,
and the street is too busy to care more.
(They never had a house, though streets feels almost home.)
This poem won in Instagram Weekly Contest held by @delhipoetryslam on the theme 'Street Kids'

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