My entry for the poetry contest conducted by Elan.
I think I won't win it, so might as well show it off over here....
It's not one of my best efforts. I don't usually write poems on such serious topics....
I entered the gate,
On time for my interview,
With Mr. Kumar, the renowned politician,
I rang the doorbell,
Nervous about my first journalism assignment,
A small boy all of 10 years opened the door, smiling,
I smiled back, asked him where's his dad,
His smile disappeared; ignoring my question,
Showed me into the living room,
I sat down, within seconds,
Came another boy, smaller than the previous one,
Offered my a glass of water,
I took it, confused, seeing the boys in tattered clothes,
The boy had bruises on his face, his teeth looked bashed up badly,
As I drank the water, my eyes spotted blood clots on the boy's face,
I pointed it out to him, and he shrank away,
I looked up and saw a tiny boy running up,
As fast as his tiny legs could carry him.
After some minutes, the kid came down hurriedly,
"Sir is coming soon" he said nervously and shot off.
There was blood on his pants.
I was paralyzed with shock,
Mr. Kumar came, with a pleasant smile,
He motioned to one of the boys to get snacks,
He started speaking on the topic of the interview,
Which was Prevention of Child Abuse in Maharashtra.
I stood up, shaking with fury,
As far as I was concerned,
The interview was already over.