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A Living-invisible to Dead-Visible


Every day when I went to my office
I saw her on the road side
Watching vigorously
Without blinking her abysmal eyes
Her frail skull, her bony body
Her bare feet, her scattered hairs
Her reedy fingers, her cold look
Shivered my whole being
Felt like a lightening stroke to my heart
And then when I saw people walking by
Without noticing her existence
Absorbed in their own symphony
I wonder if she is too thin to be invisible
Invisible to all of us...
And then when I reached my home
She just became a tragic moment of today’s episode...
And her memories got fade away with each passing moment
Life went on...
She was never different...
Yeah! Worst can’t be worse...
And with each passing day...  I got immune to her...
She was just a picture hung in my memories
Now...my shivering...and lightening stroke
Got softened through the passage of time...
And suddenly one day... I did not see her...
And again, next day...
Then, again and again
Now it had been two weeks I saw her...
And today when I opened my newspaper
I saw her... Her numb eyes...her cold look...
Her disseminated hairs...
Even her death could not change her look....
But of course, had changed her worth...
“A living-invisible to dead-visible”

Comments

Tweety said…
What happens to these people....i wonder often...we see them...pity chokes our throats and later they just become a faded memory or a topic of discussion...a stark reality...lovely poem...touched deep...

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