A Daily Worker

 I am a man living on the corners of a street

And always waiting for the works to greet.

Everyday before the dawn I depart

To stand in the queue in the mart.

Sometimes it is early, sometimes late,

I get a work with mercy of God and fate.

For years I have survived on sweat

Feeding my children dreams and fate.

Last time I purchased a cloth

And popped a ladoo in my mouth,

I am unable to remember the date,

And it was because a kind man I met.

I have grown old by day and ray.

So many years yet nothing to say.

The shortest way my journey concludes

No ego, no bondage, no regret includes.

Though I am also a part of human kind

But there is no legacy to leave behind.

To the open sky my last salute,

No need to fuss, no need to play flute.

(From my collection of poems, The First Step.)