The Momma Clan

A poor boy from the neighbouring village
Dream’t high of becoming big
Someday he wished his dreams would be fulfilled
But to reach his peak he didn’t know the way

Watching with his eyes glimmering
He used to adore
Teachers, on those blackboards scribbling
Outside the classroom windows he used to sit
Coz he wasn’t allowed inside
For his father didn’t have a penny to pay
But he had painted in his heart
His dreams
So one fine day he thought of running away

The city lights bedazzled him
He found a place in an inn
Cleaning the tables to washing dishes
To collect those precious
Green and red paper pieces
He did with all his heart
All that he could

A couple noticing his innocence
Asked him to accompany them
Promising him of vibrant future
They sweared to help him fulfill his dreams

There he found two kids of his age
Who would read and write
While he stared at them with his inquisitive eyes
But had to hide his emotions from those guys

These utensils
You wash them first
And then you can go to bed
Tomorrow early morning before we get up
Make sure you are ready with our breakfast

Days came and days went by
But of his books there wasn’t a sight
He would be frequently beaten
If the chores weren’t right
Their vows to educate him
Were all fake to his fright
Thrashings had become a regular affair
Almost everyday he was made to sleep underfed
Every second he was almost battered
His eyes lost the sheen and his lips forgot to smile
And his dreams to fly high were badly shattered

As the sun went down one day
He gathered the courage to ask them their say
About the promise to him that they had made

That was a blow as if on their faces
They reacted as if someone had torn their intentions into pieces
He was a useless refuse
Coz to work for them he had now refused
They mercilessly threw him out of the house
Half dead lying there

As the paint of his dreams
From his heart bled
The poor child was robbed of all his innocence
Wasn’t he too a victim
Of Illegal, Immoral trafficking and Violence

-Ashu Verma Chaubey