She had in her hut only one blanket
donated by a NGO last year.
She wrapped her two children with it
to keep them warm
in the bone-chilling cold night.
For her she had bare cotton cloth
to ward off the dark thickening,
freezing around her frail body.
A mismatch: she was found dead
in the wee hours of the morning.
Late in the day the civic body met
in the city municipal hall
Agenda: shelter for the homeless
living on the streets!
Proceedings had hardly begun,
pandemonium broke loose -
pretext: the National Anthem.
Chaos, slogans, counter slogans
drowned care for her homeless children
in the display of love for Mother India.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem