Taste of struggle!

I see you feeling the cold in the night, 

Shivering under the weak kneed blanket.

I observe you looking at the meagre light,

The candle that shows you life.

I see you inhaling the milk-warm stew,

The only fodder you perceive in the morning,

I observe you tasting the meal, it makes you blue.

But you know it’s all they can afford.

They all sing in a minor key,

About undefeated love and fortunate life.

They do not seem to believe in their fortune,

And their song blends with the light of the moon.

They might be scanty, they might be needy; but their hearts are undoubtedly
richer than the rest,

They might be wandering on foot; but their speed is more
than the trendy cars,

They might brush their teeth with raw bamboo sticks;

But their jaws can easily smother the toughest of steel,

They might sleep under the open sky; but originate more
warmth than the contemporary room heater,

They might not eat with spoons and forks; but enjoy each
edible meal to their hearts content,

They might not bathe under mineral water; but relish
their swim in the exotic rivers,

They might have the pain of hunger reverberating in their
stomach; but are capable of facing the entire army
single handed,

Here people might designate them as ‘SLUM PEOPLE’,
glaring each minute with scornful stares; but
they consider their huts as the most colossal of palace;
with each atom of mud saturated in its walls
giving us a scent of our endurance; the essence
of their motherland .

Shrestha .S. Purkayastha