My Head Bent Low And My Eyes Filled With Tears Poem by Renu Beri

My head bent low and my eyes filled with tears,
Drops of self-pity, not pearls of compassion.
Had I not procrastinated but acted in time,
I could have saved an isolated human life,
Reduced the unhappiness of a tortured soul,
Relieved the pain of a suffering heart.

I remember noticing her everyday from my window,
A diminutive figure dressed in a worn out sari,
Her head neatly covered with the end of her drape,
Slowly sweeping the fallen leaves into a heap
Finally lighting a bonfire of the dead leaves.

On the second of every month she stood before me,
Her rough hand outstretched, large eyes lowered,
I put in her hand a meagre reward for her labour.

Sita, my impudent maid, knew her fairly well.
A lonely, childless soul, abandoned by her husband
Driven out of the home she had struggled to set up.
For a more beautiful, younger woman
‘Greener pastures' muttered Sita, with a wicked smile.


I watched her with heightened curiosity,
The calm face and the vigorous sweeping
And felt a surge of pity for the poverty stricken life
Not even a sinner deserved such poverty and loneliness.

While resting in my warm, comfortable living- room,
I decided that I would do a worthy deed.
A feeling of satisfaction pervaded my being,
I would offer to help her when she came the next day.


Being busy with my numerous assignments,
And preparing my lecture titled, `Poverty Stricken Women.'
The next day did not come for many months!


I looked out of the window at the sudden downpour,
And noticed the figure standing under the narrow ledge,
Not broad enough to protect her from getting wet.
I watched pitifully as I sipped the sweet hot coffee.
Being a kind person I wanted to carry out my resolution.
Yet it was raining too heavily to go out,
Tomorrow, I decided, I would certainly help her.

A week passed busily in my various assignments,
I looked out of the window, now a habitual action.
Something caught my busy attention,
A tall, heavy figure, sweeping vigorously,
I didn't know that the lady had been replaced.

I called out and Sita stood by my side,
"She's no more, " she said wiping her tearful eyes.
Loneliness and poverty had overpowered her.

Numbness enveloped my total being,
Not for the departed soul but for myself and my callousness.