The Boy Who Sold पापड़ (Papad)

 

Riding on a bicycle, he honks as he goes,
Through parks and roads where the city flows.
He spots me standing from a little afar,
And asks for a favor; 
Just small change or some rupees to spare.
A gloomy face with a pale old shirt, 

Mended slippers, scratched with some dirt.

Yet his eyes shine, so bright and deep,
It holds dreams the world refused to keep.
“Bhaiya, buy some papad from me,
I’ll give you coconuts with them for free.”
I paused and ask, “Do you go to school?” 

Aged thirteen he smiles at me —
“My father died a year ago,
Blurred in alcohol all days long,
He hurt my mother till the day he go,
Then left us alone with pain and debt to borrow. 

My mother works in people’s homes,
A domestic helper as her chore.
She earns just enough to keep us alive,
But these days her health is taking a dive.
I have a sister I care for each day,
Her smile’s the reason I still find my way.
In this world, will I ever be free?
I don’t know — responsibilities own me. 

“School?” he says, “That’s for the rich,
For people whose lives aren’t tied by a stitch.
I still have to earn my daily wage,
This is the role I’ve been given on life’s hard stage.” 

As I searched my pocket, I ask once more,
“Would you go to school, if you had a door?”
All I find is two hundred rupees tight,
I placed it in his hands, hoping it feels right.
His eyes light up like a morning sky,
Dreams take shape — he wants to try. 

He doesn’t answer, just smiles instead,
He knows his fate is written in bold,
In duties, burdens, and an untaken road.
Maybe one day he’ll return to school, 

          But today,survival is his only rule

          Riding on a bicycle,he honks as he goes,

          Through parks and cities where the river flows.