The Roadside Girl Poem by manaswini dash

Neither I had the fickleness of childhood
nor the inquisitiveness of teen age.
Not lucky enough nor having a mood
to experience life's those valuable stage.
Neither I had toys to play as a child
nor books to read in a calm and cool mind.
Look at the portrait of my childhood
A naked girl playing with broken tin or potsherd.
Eating a boil full of forth after the rice boiled.
How a baby girl in such condition can dream of a childhood?
After the childhood the teenage came to me unnoticed
Wearing a torn frock and with half full belly I was just weird.
I never tried to find out its inquisitiveness
As I was busy rag picking in our slum's dustbin with much happiness.
Without experiencing childhood or teenage
I could not recognise my youth when it came with growing age.
Is it a thing to be recognised?
As you are blaming me for not keeping it concealed.
How did I knew that this was a valuable asset>
To be kept secretly which I never thought.
To be kept in a vermilion box under seven sea water.
Alas, we didn't have even a pond full of water.
I never tried to conceal me from their greedy eyes.
Busy in rag picking as I did it always.
So, my valuable asset- my youth was robbed.
In the broad day light on the highway road.
Should I call it dacoity?
No, as they are the guardian of the society.
That was only a sparkle of their right on me.
I- a roadside girl could not appeal before anybody
for the mishap that happened to me