The Unwanted Child

Do you know who an unwanted child is?

Conceived,

But not really wanted.

Born into the world, however,

Out of social obligations.

 

Do you know who an unwanted child is?

The one not really loved,

The faulty one,

The one who is looked down upon,

The one who is neglected,

The one who repulses others;

That child is an unwanted child.

 

Do you know who an unwanted child is?

That who is compared to the elder one every day,

The lesser one,

The shame,

The one who is part of the family picture,

But not really part of the family;

That is the unwanted child for the world to see.

 

Do you know who an unwanted child is?

The child no one asked for, of course,

The unwelcome member,

The burden of the house,

The one everyone wishes was

Gagged, or mute, or ignorant,

Or dead.

 

Do you know who an unwanted child is?

Well, how would you know.

You’re not the one.

The unwanted child, I mean.

How indeed would you know!

No one really does,

Except for that one,

That unwanted child.

 

But still, you might wonder,

Who an unwanted child is.

Curiosity is a dangerous thing.

It kills the cat.

It won’t kill him though!

That one,

Yes, the unwanted child.

So let me give you a clue;

Well,

Perhaps,

The one who quits?

 

________________________________________________________________

Shefali Banerji

http://www.instagram.com/weaving_poetry

Image Source: Internet

Death Almighty!

On 31st March, a tragedy befell Kolkata – my beloved City of Joy, as an unfinished bridge, the Vivekananda flyover, collapsed over a busy road, killing many.While some others are severely injured and some still trapped under the debris. The pain and sadness of the entire incident and the consequent shock and uneasiness that gripped me gave birth to this piece.

 

The bridge collapsed,

And so did many lives –

Crushed under the debris,

Oblivious of their fate.

 

Death doesn’t discriminate.

It visits both the rich and the poor –

Death’s unwanted attention

Showered upon the innocent

And the unsuspecting,

Busy in the humdrum of life.

 

A fatal accident,

A tragedy,

One stroke,

And all’s over.

 

And we – we spend our lives

Worrying,

Contesting,

Lamenting,

Complaining –

Ignorant.

 

While Death

Watches over us,

Smirking smugly,

Stroking his diabolical sceptre,

Laughing at the futility of human toil

And the vanity of human aspirations.

 

________________________________________________________________

Shefali Banerji

http://www.instagram.com/weaving_poetry

Image Source: Internet