ON THE WAY

On the way I could

witness life in its crude form.

On the way I could witness needles of

biting cold piercing the young and old alike,

claiming the lives men, women and children

for lack of woollen blankets

to cover their bodies.

On the way

I could witness

famine and hunger

stalking and choking

the refugees to death who

fled for life from their native land

where civil war was

tearing apart the lives of lakhs of innocents.

On the way

I could witness

the inmates of the refugee camps

crying aloud for food, water and medicines

but no good Samaritan

turned up to provide them succour.

On the way I could witness

media-persons visiting them

talking to them

taking pictures of

them and informing the

world over about the

plight of the refugees.

On the way

I couldn’t meet any

politicians whom the refugees

voted to power reposing

their faith in them.

In the meanwhile they were celebrating

and partying spending lakhs

while the furnace of

hunger was burning

the refugees’ stomachs.