I raised my hand in class,
“Didi *! How do we write hope?”
Smiling, she spelled on the blackboard in block letters-
Only, it didn’t feel right.
I practiced writing hope on a wall
Stains washed away in rain
Had it been really hope,
Wouldn’t it stay?
I think hope is like a Saturdays
When she comes
To teach us
To read and write,
Till then I’ll work in the local tea stall.
* Didi – Elder sister.
Tonight on Dversepoets, Mary has us write about invisibility – taking cue from her suggestions, I worked on an old piece – in memory of countless children I see in my city, Kolkata – living in slums, bearing the curse of child labor and many people who work in NGOs to help them as best they can. The least I can do is raise a voice for them. Please read the wonderful entries of tonight here.
Photo Credits : Reetam Banerjee