Real Time
The world as it is, all at once
In a smoky pub, young restless
glances ricochet across
strands of cloudy air.
Children, tidy in their blue and white
school uniforms, hold hands—
some skipping, others laughing.
The ever-present tarred billows of
exhaust swirl invisibly in their wake.
Huge platters, overflowing with
fresh shrimp, crab, crayfish, crisp
raw vegetables, and hot steamed fish
pass from hand to hand. Most of the
diners, satiated, leave vast portions
to be poured in the bins.
“No Mommy, no Daddy, no Brother,
no Sister. Give me something—10 rupee.”
The child stretches his tiny hands into
the cab. His lifeless oval eyes
rise over blistered rat-eaten lips.
Monotonously, he repeats the phrase
over and over again.
Ruddy-cheeked, flaxen-haired, bundled
and tucked within warm snow suits, the children
ride gallantly through the winter’s amusement
park atop their Shetland ponies passing through
a gauntlet of colorful Christmas lights.
Barefooted and tattered, racing amongst
the rubbish, the children giggle and hide.
A giant cow lingers nearby feeding in the
rancid garbage field.
I am in
this world
and yet,
I live
knowingly ignoring
the pain.
Copenhagen, Denmark / Delhi, India
A poem by Pemba Umoja