ETIQUETTE

 

ETIQUETTE

 

Questions heart of a human fail,

Nature resembles a soap bubble,

Myriad color-spread move transient,

Constantly changing heart is a bubble,

Who built a cement bench near the footpath,

Unknown the purpose, pedestrians bypass,

Under a tree, in shades, at the side of a street,

Cement Bench invites dogs, beggars,

Once while strolling, sit on a Bench,

Most convenient it was for me later,

On evening walks used to sit there,

Intensely observe the river of life,

Busy street, evening hours, noisy,

Flooding street lights' glare scintillating,

I thought people homebound moving,

End of a busy day, urban life faced,

Imagining quietly, sat on the bench,

Kept my walking stick near,

My retired age, walking stick helps,

The support for walking, a need,

The moving cars, vehicle traffic,

Walking sticks for commuters, I smiled,

Life passed moved in this street,

Countless busy travels well-forgotten,

That struck again me an incident,

A woman was calling at the roadside,

I stopped my car there, approached,

Enquired her pleading the reason,

An octogenarian from well to do family,

Her saree, covering her head, showed,

Bangles in colored glass, shining,

The vermilion dot on the forehead, distinct,

A bit perplexed, I got surprised,

Thought for a second curious she was sitting?

At this odd hour on the bench,

Calling people homebound desperately,

Little disturbed commuters evade,

To my inquiries, she explained,

 Her son and daughter-in-law left her,

Thrown out of her home angrily,

After a quarrel with her daughter-in-law,

She was hungry for two days,

Without food scolded her son,

She was sitting on this bench, sleeping,

Immobile pain for starving pleaded,

Give me some water and food,

Otherwise, I shall die soon, help,

From my car, I brought a water flask,

Sat near her, gave some water,

She drank all of it, quickly told,

Please give me some food to survive,

Bought some food from a nearby shop,

Gave her the food and sat quietly,

She narrated her plight sadly,

She owns a house in the city,

Retired from her job school teacher,

Getting a pension to manage life,

Her husband and son drink,

Demand her pension money every month,

They were drinking and beating her,

Her husband watched her eviction,

Looked away, silent never protested,

Socked, she collapsed in my arms,

At a loss, numb, searched etiquette,

What to do for a helpless lady, in age,

Clueless, sat, called the police, helped,

Admitted to a hospital, returned home,

It was late that evening thinking alone,

Civilized human and simple etiquette,

Could save a life, faced a cruel fate.

 

Title of Poem: Etiquette

Pen: Bijayananda Mishra

Theme: Etiquette is the human touch

Date, 29th October 2022, Cuttack, India

Language: Indian English

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