Her peering eyes…

His mother peering through a broken stained window, pondering what time he’ll be back. Her heart restless on a daily basis, awaiting in eagerness in her tiny but humble shack.


Staggering through the creaking makeshift door, tired, hungry, the little eyes portentously gloar. His cracked, tiny filthy bare feet, reminiscent of struggles, once again make their  greet.


Thusly In essence, an acclimated appearance of ragged clothes tarnished in heaps of dankly stains.
To glance again, a sight full of scantily surrounding, for nothing more could a heart content other than pains.


Their wondering eyes meet, his mother giving him the glare of hope, her optimism now in full swing simply lingers. He crouches to empty his oversized torn woven sack of his accomplishments. Proudly relaying assurance to her with his eyes, he rummages through them with his little cold, bare and dirt ridden fingers.


They peek at them in tandem. In anticipation for no lesser grievance,  thus already present in their destitute life, so cruelly intense, bestowed upon them. Swallowing a heavily burdened lump, tactically keeps her emotions at bay. How can one keep incessant this life of pauperism is what she’ll beg for answers later in pray.


She takes over to sift through the rubbish after observing his tiny hands bearing blisters.
Alas! they share a sigh of relief in delight as she holds up a metal broken watch, a spoon and a bent  lantern too. Knowing at last it’ll bring them some rations once it had been weighed and notched in careful view.


They await in foretaste for the loud daily chantings of the metal merchant. Soon he arrives, with a mindset ridden of his unfair intentions. Innocently mother and son present their precious haul and in politeness greet him full of promising expressions.


The mother now in vain gesturing to him a plea bargain that surely these must be worthy of more. He waves his arm erratically in response denying her exclamations. Her subtle gaze lowers to her hand to a feel of beggarly status. Her young precious’s little hand reaching out to her cheek to wipe away the tears of despair, reassuring her that it’s ok, at least we get to eat, therefore another day of gratis.


Discerning a notion of necessitous and penurious, she looks at him intently. Breaking the bread in quarter and handing him the rest. His eyes impoverished from lack of sleep and nourishment, they show a sign of consolation, that finally the day has come as they share their meal…maybe in meagre, but alas!  a banquet to them it seemed.


His poor mother lets him finish off her plate knowing full well he’ll be out till late on another journey reconvened. This time he roams his vicinity of nearby shabby shacks, going into neighbouring bins to collect any consumable scraps.


Laid together on the floor of their impecunious ambience, she strokes her fingers through his hair, reciting Holy verses and forgiveness in the name of His Almighty. Thanking him for their existence oblivious to the indigent, needy poverty-stricken  condition, for it mattered no more as they’d struggled so many years, all so so far. Strongly willed they’d abide by all laws, knowing that God above them would refrain them from all their falls.


Woken up by a silent call, the little boy would wash and eat that he’d gathered overnight, then pray & ask for strength, just to keep the momentum going on another fast. His hands risen up, silently pleads that The Almighty bless’s him and his mother and all those effected too by such a plight that He brought them peace, energy, no illness and most of all some kind of food at all times in sight, Amen.


His sack hanging off his side, he waves his mother goodbye and starts another day before sunrise. She commences her daily chores and relaxes in peace reading the Holy Book. Then back to the broken stained window as the sun sets in, she leans her head against a peering crack in silence and not an utter of sound.

Once again, sitting in earnest expectation, she awaits anxiously for her beloved 7 year old son. To return back from the only dangerous but essential means prevailing,  sacred dumping ground.