And the sun glimmering like a gem in the sky,
The chirruping little birds were at rest
In no want to come out and fly.
There,I see a tri-vehicle coming by
A brown-old man struggling to drive,
I stop him and ask for
If he would take me three miles away
He agreed to thirty bucks and began to thrive.
A thirty bucks-
For there were lanterns to light up back at his place,
And no fancy chandeliers to glow
For there were empty-stomached children with a pale face.
For there was his lady
Waiting for bangles to adorn her empty wrists,
For there were broken roofs to repair
And happiness to earn which lay in bits.
His torn shirt spoke of his life-
Scattered in pieces and just in the toil to survive
And the sweat dripping down his face
Shouted of his constraint
His dark-toned skin
Whispered of the heat he faced
All this pain,all these afflictions,
For what? Thirty bucks?
All this toil and agony,
For what?Waking up by the cluck, for what?
As I sat with tranquil
With a roof over my head
Protecting me from the bright sun
All these thoughts crawled into my head
Of how his gray hair would withstand the calefaction
And of how his pedaling feet might ache,
And how his hands might be bruised,
With putting me into this muddle,
The ride came to an end
I gave him thirty-bucks
And an extra ten.