Begging For Warmth Poem by DR KUSUMITA MUKHERJEE

Who has taught him to beg?
I wonder
Does he even have parents?
Or do they have too many mouths to feed to get bothered?

Tugging at the clothes of the passers by
It's a boy.
Barely of seven
Hair turned orange;
Feet brown;
Nails yellow.

He is wearing a half-pant held together by a string.
It's more of a loin cloth
The rest of his bare body is caked with dirt.
His rickety pot belly is the most prominent part of him.

He does not clean his hands before eating.
He gulps down whatever comes to him
Like a mongrel that fears being robbed of his morsel by his fellows
And even siblings.

He does not stop working.
He simply pauses and pries.
If he is fast enough he can make the most of a potential benefactor.
Get five instead of one
A little something to eat
Even clothes sometimes if he is in luck.

What does he feel when he sees school children grumbling about the kind of Tiffin they
had been given?
No, he does not want to go to school like them.
For he has seen many children quibbling about it.

He just wants a little warmth.
A little promise.
Is Santa around?