She ran her fingers through her graying hair.
This was not how it was meant to be.
A little lamp to fulfill one solitary wish
Shouldn’t cost anyone their two days’ meal.
She joined her palms and inhaled deeply;
The fragrance of incense soothed her senses.
But the deity was hidden behind a donation box;
And the sprinkle of the sanctified water failed to touch her.
She had lived a life at the mercy of others,
She now wished to tread on the path of God.
A silent ripple flowed through her frail and tired body
As the last sight of gray was lost in the holiness of the Ganges.
Photo courtesy - Sean D'mello
