A young man, about my age,
poverty and abuse painted his life.
The stars he saw through the cracks
in his roof made him dream.
Betrayed by the state and forced by the needs,
he sweated, nine hours a day, in a city afar.
I watched him die with my own eyes,
midway to his home
in the hands of his friend, his only wealth*,
and wept,
sitting on the cushioned seats of an air-conditioned hall
with a ticket worth more than two hundred rupees.
4K projector and surround sound
enhanced the experience,
inside the multiplex screen of the luxury mall
beside the premier institute where I study
In the vast land it owns, I have a room
from where I can choose
to go to class or not, to get a job or not,
to study more or not, to stay here or not.
A silver screen separates us,
his life mere images to my eyes.
We are far apart, and it’s difficult
to fit my feet in his shoes, had he any.
Does that make my struggles unreal?
Does that make my tears so trivial?
It doesn’t!
They make me know myself more.
They make me think about others more.
Moments that make me more human
and remind me that not all battles are the same.
Yet I can wipe my eyes and move on
to live my life of privileges
but a bit more careful, aware, and kind.
*This poem was written after watching Homebound (2025 film)
Design by Alphin Tom
Article 19 