Thursday, 11 September 2014
A Poly(thene) -Tale....
Packed in a bundle,
I moved alone,
Mercied at the hands of my fate,
Filled with gravels and stones.
A mere tiny cluster,
That’s what they thought,
When they stumbled upon,
My body ain’t made of gold.
Perplexed I was
Regarding my fortune,
Which never seemed to be,
In rhythm or in tune.
Lying down uncared along the dusty path,
Every single day I faced the sun’s mighty wrath,
Drenched in the monsoon rain,
Or chilly winter nights,
Nobody ever bothered about my rights.
Everyday’s not the same got proved that evening,
When a young lad touched my body,
And jolted my inner strings.
Awaiting to get trashed,
Or being blown up by someone,
I never did except to be picked by him,
A man of dirty attire,
But a heart so clean.
With gentle caring hands,
He took me in his arms,
As if recognizing me in just one glance.
Happiness spread across his rough rugged face,
Making me feel more worthy,
Than a silk ribbon or a lace.
Worthless they had proved me,
After a single use,
Coz thousands surrounded their riches,
To get adored, to get mused.
Of different shape and colour,
Of different texture and feel,
At the end it’s the utility,
But nobody understands it still.
The moment I was picked by that lovable rag picker of mine,
My worthless plastic body did get a golden shine.
It’s not the place or riches that we all crave for,
But a simple caring soul,
That gives us our worth,
And our deserving whole.
Source : Google Images
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