Drops of rain glistened here and there,
Clinging from the feathers persistently.
Perched on a leafless tree, a single sparrow,
Trembled slightly, softly ruffling its wings.
The silhouetted little being, barely tangible,
A tiny speck against the wide overcast backdrop.
City noises murmured incoherently,
Cars honked impatiently stuck in the traffic.
In the evening mist of red and yellow splashes,
Strangers hurried across the road, jostling one another.
Streets dissolved under the rhythmic stomping of their feet.
Like a cluster of ants, people with umbrellas dotted the town.
Living their short eventful lives, unknown to the one beside.
Such insignificant and transient existences.
Amid the chaos of puddles and bustling pavements,
Children played with marbles at the corner.
Letting escape sudden shrieks of pure delight,
Oblivious to their surroundings, they bounded in glee.
Unbothered by the stench of sewage drains behind them,
Ignoring the blank faces of those walking back home,
They fought playfully and dabbled in the muddy waters.
Busy people continued on their journey, sidestepping them.
Engrossed in their own inconsequential games,
The kids laughed boisterously, teeth showing.
Left alone at the margins, quite neglected,
Wearing shirts that loosely hung from fish bones,
Yet the abject poverty couldn’t dampen their spirits.
Thriving under the highways, along side the gutters,
With no plans for the future, but staying alive,
Fighting futility with bare handed will to survive.
An indomitable desire to live, grab that last loaf,
On the run, ready to steal, get beaten up, rise again.
An unquenchable thirst for freedom, despite misery,
Like the single sparrow on that barren tree,
Humans are but an unstoppable irresistible littleness.