Somewhere in a distant land, a place far far away,
Where even the troubles must lay their weapons down while for darkness, the sun makes way!
A house by the cobblestone street, it’s open window I see a mother standing by,
Wait, did I see her silently wipe her wet eyes, but why?

Yes, brushing off her tears, she was, the howling wind kissing her red right cheek,
There she stood, locking eyes with her only child, that poor little meek,
She collected herself, put up a brave face, her grief, pushing it down for she was in dismay,
Coz only she knew that they might go to sleep, having nothing to eat, it was only she, her kid and their hunger that day.

Yes, yes she knew she had lost the day’s battle to hunger,
Though she was left with nothing but hope that she can get back, stronger.
But that hope was not alone, it was intertwined with fear, a chill down the spine, as they say,
For she also knew someone who had lost their war with starvation and it is beneath that very ground, in rest they lay.

Yes, I feel for her, because it is weird, when even the tears are confused, to roll down for what, their grief or hunger.
But there she was, still not done, on her feet, counting the bricks life threw at her,
She distracted her child with stories, where good triumphs over evil, till that poor thing fell asleep,
You know a mother’s heart, right? Cursed herself all night for what transpired, not proud at all of the very feat.

My thoughts come back to right here, this day,
Maybe a bit relieved I am, that I am not in that mother’s place,
Maybe feeling lucky that the mouths I feed are assured that they have meals guaranteed their way,
But definitely, definitely no pride in knowing that I walk on the same land as that helpless mother, for things didn’t go her way.

A question here posed to us fortunates, for we can afford dinner table conversations and make value,
Looks like we have settled the debates on what came first egg or the chicken, Gosling or Reynolds the better Ryan,now can we please talk about that mother’s plight, a topic, oh I don’t know, worthy and new?
I know, I know I may not change this world alone, I wont be able to get the rest out there to be compassionate, empathize or see the world with different set of eyes, than it is.
But I am concerned, I am petrified, because the human in me, might wake up tomorrow, shrug it off and say ‘ Sorry bro! It is what it is’