Some call me a beggar, some a thief,
O what do they know, of my grief.
Why do I beg, or sometimes steal,
what do I want, and how I feel;
No one perhaps shall ever know.

Clothes ragged and torn, on the pavement I rest,
while they stare at me, like I were a pest.
But home none I have, where may I go?
Yet I must live on, I must live so;
For the sake of myself i must live on.

No purpose I see, to my belittled being,
but thats not an excuse for me to be fleeing.
From realities of life- of hunger and sorrow,
So sometimes I beg, I steal, I borrow;
For the purpose of life is living itself.

I care not for riches, or clothing good,
all I need, is shelter and food.
To keep me alive, two meals a day,
and a corner of this pavement for myself to stay;
And nothing more I ask from this society.

Nothing more I ask this society to give,
You live your life, and mine i will live.
Selfish I am, I live for just me,
But thats how it must be, do not you see;
Why must I help someone for nothing?

So one night on my concrete, bed I lay,
thinking of what to do the next day.
Nothing! I thought, just steal some bread,
and sleep all day, on my hard bed;
A newspaper pillow and a ragged-cloth for blanket.

Just before noon, the next day I woke,
with a stick in my ribs, I felt someone poke.
I looked up to see a policeman stand,
greed in his eyes, and stick in hand;
He hath found his prey for the day.

At my sack in the corner, I saw him look,
he asked me,” what’s in there, you dirty crook?”
“Nothing,” I said, ” just scrap from the street,”
” nothing that would be, to your eyes a treat.”
“O! shut up and get up and empty your pockets.”

I stood up and emptied my pockets for him.
His face was stony, silent and grim.
He took the small change that in my pockets I had,
And warned me,he’ll get me if i was bad;
And then he left, leaving me broke.

Later that day I, was caught stealing bread,
And they beat me up, till I was almost dead.
In hunger and pain, I wandered the street,
hoping to find a morsel to eat;
But nothing I got, but contempt and hate.

From house to house, I begged for food,
but the end of the day, and still hungry I stood.
A splitting headache, from hunger and sun,
my eyes too went down, but food there was none;
A body so weak, a mind but weaker.

Thus shoulders drooping, to my home I returned,
only to find my, newspaper-pillow burnt.
So this night i thought, would go without sleep,
with hunger and pain to company keep;
I bent down to pick up the ashes of my pillow.

I sat down there, my hands held my head,
without a pillow, I couldnt use my bed.
More so when you’ve had, nothing to eat,
For this was no bed, twas but concrete;
And then I saw him come to me.

Some kind of social worker was he,
he gave me a smile and sat beside me.
In no mood I was, for some cleanliness class,
So I asked him here, why he was;
And then he whispered,” Are you hungry?”

“Yes” I nodded, and he walked away,
to a vehicle nearby, and came back with a tray.
With food in it, and water to drink,
I grabbed it and ate, not stopping to think;
With me he sat, while I alone ate.

My dinner I finished, in no time at all,
feeling i was,the luckiest of all.
Joy may exist,in this world a lot,
but I was the happiest, right now I thought;
Yet I found myself wrong, when I looked in his eyes.

He was smiling in joy, his eyes shone in glee,
but how could he be, happier than me?
Happy he was, from the joy me he gave,
he smiled as he went off, giving me a wave;
And then I realised, he was my God.

He went away, but his memory remained,
like a little neat spot, on a shirt fully stained.
To me he was God, because he was happy,
solely for reason that, I was happy;
And how happy he was! How happy he was!

An indelible mark, on my mind it made,
to my life of uselessness, farewell I bade
I resolved in my mind, to do something good,
to earn and not to steal my food;
Tomorrow a day, of radical change.

The next day I woke up,and emptied my sack,
hoping to find someway, to earn breakfast snack.
Papers and bottles, books and strings,
O! my sack full of valuable things;
I sold it all, at the corner scrap dealer’s.

Now I had money, for three meals the day,
I needn’t steal, for today I shall pay.
And from now I shall hardest work,
I thought to myself, with a proud li’l smirk;
I returned to my corner, with a new paper pillow.

But on my way back, I saw this girl,
from the distance I saw her lips curl.
Nearer I went, to ask her why,
she was crying silently, without even a sigh.
For hungry she was, and no food had she.

I took her to a shop, and brought her a bun,
she looked like she, was the happiest one.
She gobbled the bun, and smiled at me,
and strangely I felt, the happier one was me;
And then I realised, I was Her God !

by Dhananjai Raja Kuttikad