Current state of affairs

In this world where we force the next living thing into a corner,
To go about their life as if there were no space
And then when the tables turn,
We turn on our own race!

Husband, wife and daughter,
Find not in their heart the love,
To break bread and drink water,
To love and be loved.

Every tiny space, thing and thought
Somehow we must OWN
Our companion for life somehow
Has no space in our own home.

Ask the one who has naught,
What they'd give to share some time
With a husband, friend or daughter
With any soul or passerby.

It is funny how we collect
People for our pleasure
A moment more than what's fore rationed
Is somehow a crime to share.

Time is spent on life's bling
And then easily on to the next big thing
I'm surprised we say the virus spreads like wildfire
When we're the ones that have brought upon us a state this Dire!

Her

She was five years old, when her mother first asked her to venture out on the crowded streets of Mumbai alone. Joyful but cautious, she navigated the narrow by-lanes, being careful not to step in dung. She’d been previously burned by this mistake. As she approached her favorite candy shop she slowed her pace down. Consumed by the monumental decision of what she wanted. After all she was only allowed a single piece of candy. Even at a tender age of 5 she didn’t let gluttony get the better of her. Discipline. For she knew a slight misstep and months of building trust be ruined. She had bigger dreams than fruit filled centered sugary treats.

30 minutes later she returned with a lollipop and 8 rupees in exact change. Her mother beaming with pride said she could have another hour this evening with her dolls. She went on triumphantly to her play pen. Barbie and Ken were waiting there as usual. 

She’s twenty five today and works relentlessly to prove her mettle. Her boss, oblivious to her efforts, walks by her desk, dumping another set of files to be reviewed. Frustrated, she glances at them knowing very well it’s another late night at the office. Her cellphone starts to buzz: “Ma calling”. The flashing screen beckoning her to answer. She does. A worried voice on the other side asks “Would you be home for dinner at least?” A smile breaks the once tensed face and she then says “I’m trying my best”. “Well that’s what counts” – is the response. Later that night she tries to sneakily enter, like when she was 15, to a table set up with dinner and a note that said –

And here’s something sweet for trying your best – Love, Ma. And there lay this lollipop with a strawberry filled center.